


Chain

by conceptofzero



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-29
Updated: 2011-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-21 22:30:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 35,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptofzero/pseuds/conceptofzero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an alternate session where Derse won the war, Jack Noir comes into the possession of a most intriguing slave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sex slave story. It contains a lot of rape, and is told from the abuser's POV. If you may be distressed by non-consensual sexual encounters, this is not the fic for you.

It's the Dignitary who brings the summons, coming around the side of the Fenestrated Walls, "Queen wants you."

Jack sneers mostly out of habit at the bitch's name, and then jerks his head away from the footage of the Battlefield, "Wait, is she-"

The Dignitary nods and Jack feels his heart leap in his chest. The latest batch of palace slaves has arrived from Prospit, which means the old ones will be up for dibs. Jack's been on the list for a while now, and it looks like his patience is finally going to pay off, "Try get the one they've had working in the kitchen."

"I'll be lucky if she doesn't give me one of the men," Jack tries to sound annoyed, but he can't help but feel excited. She's been less of a bitch since they won and she got her hands on her prizes, and she rarely comes around to harass Jack anymore now that she's got someone new. If she's summoning him, that means all those years of tolerating her shit may be finally paying off, "Watch my desk."

Jack heads down to the throne room, composing himself on the way. He can't get his hopes all the way up, but his mind happily conjures images of pale naked carapace obeying his every command. And he does hope, just a little.

It's a long walk to the throne and Jack covers the distance at a brisk pace. The Black Queen sits on her throne, and the fallen White Queen kneels beside it. There's a thick black collar around the woman's long white neck, and a chain connected to the base of the throne. It's eerie how identical their faces are and Jack doesn't look at the naked Queen kneeling on the floor, focusing instead on his own Queen, "Your Majesty."

"Jack," She smiles to him. The Queen's been doing that a lot since they won the war, "I saw the numbers this morning. Your section turned a record profit this quarter. Well done."

High praise from the Queen. Jack can't remember ever receiving anything vaguely like it. He quashes the glee he's feeling, "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Your hard work inspires us all," She snaps her fingers, and from one of the entrances, guards march in, bringing out the old palace slaves. You can always tell which ones are new and which ones are old because the old ones have been broken. Their eyes are dull and they never meet yours unless you demand they do. He eyes the line-up, searching for the girl from the kitchen. The Queen speaks and he half-listens, "For your continued contribution to the glory of Derse, you are to be granted a girl of your choosing. You will be expected to pay for any expenses out of your own pocket, but you're free to do whatever you wish to your girl."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." He repeats, and finally allows himself to grin. The girls are all so beautiful, but the King always gets the best. And once he's finished with them, new girls are brought in. The Queen never seems to take any, but she's got the White Queen, and Jack supposes that if he had the White Queen, he'd never want anything else either.

As he looks down the lineup, he finds himself a bit shocked to find one of them actually looking back at him. The rest all keep their eyes glued to the floor, but not this one. She's tall and slim, less curvy than some of the others, less flawless. But her eyes still have spark in them, and she stares down Jack, daring him to say something.

"Well?" The Queen asks, and Jack breaks eye-contact with her, "I don't have all day Jack. Pick one, or I'll pick one for you."

"Her," He says, pointing to the tall one, "That one."

The Queen looks to see who Jack's pointing to and then laughs, "Of course you'd choose her. Well, it's your choice. Guards."

They unhook the tall woman from the chains and hook her onto a leash, placing it in Jack's hand. He gets a tight grip on it, feeling on top of the world. His very own slave. He's been hoping for this since the day Prospit fell, but he wasn't ever sure it would happen. Once again, he looks to the Queen, "Your Majesty, tha-"

"Twice was enough," She interrupts, motioning for the guards to take the rest of the slaves away, "You should be careful of her. She's a wiley one, almost escaped the second day she was here. If she gets loose, it's on your head Jack."

"She won't get anywhere," Jack spares her another look. She's got a pretty face, and her body isn't half bad either.

"Oh, and Jack? This isn't permission to slack off on your job. If your work slips, you'll lose more than her," The Queen says, because she clearly can't fucking let him have this one good thing without saying something.

But nothing penetrates his good mood, especially not this half-hearted attempt. Jack gives the Queen a quick bow and leaves with his new prize. He has to tug on the leash to get the Propitarian to follow him, but she does follow after a moment. Jack guides her down the long hall and heads back to his office. He takes the long way, just to ensure that everyone sees him with his slave.

The Dignitary's still waiting there when Jack gets back, sitting in Jack's chair. He stands up when he sees Jack's new toy, getting a good look for himself, "That's not the kitchen girl."

"Fuck the kitchen girl, we both know my pick is better," Jack looks around, trying to decide where to tie the leash. He's still got some work to do before he can go home and enjoy the spoils of war. He decides on tying it to one of his desk drawers, forcing the pale woman to kneel. Jack sits down in his chair and looks the girl in the eyes again, "You got a name?"

She says nothing, just staring him down. Jack can see the tension in her shoulders. It must hurt like a bitch to have your hands tied behind your back like that, but he isn't in a hurry to undo her bonds.

"If you don't tell me, I'll give you a new one," He tells her. She still says nothing.

The Dignitary leans down, getting hold of the collar and checking to see if there's anything on it, "It says she was a parcel mistress."

"Postwoman eh?" Jack can't imagine this woman delivering mail. She looks more like a soldier with that height and those eyes. But the chances of a collar like that lying are slim, "That's not much of a name. Come on doll, say something."

She looks back and forth between Jack and the Dignitary, but her mouth stays shut. The Dignitary lets go of her collar, straightening up, "You'll have to work on her."

"I'll have time tonight. Tell the boys I'm skipping band practice," Jack grabs a quill and the stack of tickets he needs to finish, "I'll introduce her to them another day."

"Alright Jack," The Dignitary gives Jack a pat on the back and heads off. He probably wants a turn with the girl. That's fine with Jack. He wants her first, but he's willing to share with his friends. Maybe one day they'll all have their own slaves, but at the moment, only the high and mighty get to keep Prospitarians on Derse. The rest of them were being used as labour on Prospit to break down the golden city and to build New Derse.

Jack takes one last look at the parcel mistress before getting to work on the tickets. She keeps her eyes fixed on him, and knows that she's going to be fun. He smiles at her and gets back to work, eager to finish up and head home.


	2. Chapter 2

Home is an apartment within walking distance of the tower. Most of the high-level bureaucrats live in the area. You never know when there will be an emergency and you'll be expected to drop everything and come in to fix whatever has gone wrong. For once, living nearby has it's perks, since Jack doesn't have to take his new prize too far. She gets more than a few stares from passerbys, those who have never seen a Prospitiarian, and those who have no problem enjoying an unexpected naked woman.

The first problem presents itself when he arrives home. His apartment is a mess, just like always, but now it's a problem. He can't just have things lying around with her staying here. And he needs to figure out exactly where he's going to keep her. His bed is the obvious place, but he'll still need to sleep and sleep safely.

Jack ties her leash to the heaviest thing in the apartment, the leg of his piano, and begins to pick up the worst of the mess. Halfway through picking up sheet music and old uniforms, he notices her shifting her weight from foot to foot, looking tired. Jack sets the music on a shelf, and throws his uniforms into a pile by the front door, and then drags the piano bench over to her, forcing her to sit down on it, "Stay here. And stop being so damn restless."

She does. He picks up the rest of the room and then gives his bedroom a quick cleaning, throwing most of his crap into the closet. Jack's going to need to find a more long-term solution. He immediately thinks of the chains built into the Queen's throne. Something like that would work well here. Maybe he can get someone in tomorrow to install chains and loop wall anchors in all the rooms.

The parcel mistress is still waiting on the piano bench when he comes back out. He's had a dozen scenarios running through his mind all afternoon, but right now he's willing to settle for something simple. Jack pulls his uniform off, dumping it on the back of the couch, and crossing the distance to her, "On your knees," Jack tells her. She does as she's told, sliding off the bench and kneeling in front of him. Her eyes are still bright and defiant, and it just turns him on more.

Jack just pushes her head down towards his groin, his other hand wrapping around his dick and giving it a squeeze to harden it up. He nudges his cock against her mouth, and when she doesn't open it immediately, he pushes her head in closer. Her mouth finally parts and Jack just slips inside, groaning a little at the sudden heat, "Fuck. Ah fuck, your mouth."

It's not the best blowjob he's ever had, but it's a hell of a lot better than nothing, and part of him doesn't mind it that much. He'll teach her what he likes and in time, it'll be perfect. For now, he just settles for rocking into her mouth, doing the work for her. All he really needs is that warm, wet mouth, and the way her tongue accidentally slides against the ridges on the underside of his cock. He's been horny all day long, thinking about all the things he could do, and it's hard not to come too quickly.

Jack forces himself to take this all in. He looks down at her head, so shockingly white against the black of his own carapace, and at her mouth and the way it's wrapped so perfectly around his cock. Jack bites the inside of his cheek, drawing a little blood, and thrusts faster into her mouth. One of his hands slips down, finding a breast and squeezing it. It fits into his palm perfectly, her nipple pressing against his fingers. He rubs it, noting the way her cheeks are going pink, even as he gets closer to the edge of orgasm. Jack grins down at her unsteadily, "Look at you. You were just made for this. You and your perfect mouth."

He almost pulls out, old habits from old girlfriends, and then realizes suddenly that he can do whatever he wants with her. Jack tightens his grip on her head and when he thrusts in for the final time, he holds her head in places as he cums in her mouth. The parcel mistress jerks but can't get away from his cock. She swallows instead, and Jack moans, hips jerking into her mouth. He finally pulls out, and a dribble slides down the corner of her lips. Jack rubs his finger in it and slips it in her mouth, making sure none of it ends up on the floor, "That's good. Don't want anything to go to waste," He keeps his finger in her mouth until he feels her swallow, "There we go, doll."

She stays in place on her knees, even as Jack sits on the bench and takes a moment to recover. When he's got a hold of himself, he gets her up off the floor and onto the bench beside him. That judging look on her face momentarily slips away when he gets her thighs open and switches places with her to get a good look at it. She's got a pretty little cunt, white and pale pink inside, and all he can think about is how good it'll feel to be inside of there.

But not yet. Jack traces his fingers against the lips of her cunt and then stands up, "When's the last time you ate?"

The confusion lasts a moment longer, swiftly replaced by a blank look that's clearly rehearsed.

"You're going to have to speak up. When's the last time they fed you?" Jack rephrases the question, but she keeps her lips sealed. Fine. If she wants to go without dinner, she can. It's not as if she's going to starve. She did just have something to eat after all, "If you want anything, you'll have to ask for it."

He heads into the kitchen, leaving the parcel mistress tied to the piano, legs still spread wide open where she's sitting on the bench. Jack's hungry and he's not going to waste his time trying to force her to speak. She'll talk once she has no other choice.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack arranges stuff after dinner, calling on a few owed favours to get construction fast-tracked for his apartment. He makes a few rough sketches detailing where he wants the loop anchors to go. They're crude, but they get the concept across.

The parcel mistress sits silently by the piano all evening. But even as she stays quiet, he can see that things are affecting her. She squirms now and again, and licks her lips a little too often. Her mouth must be painfully dry, but she doesn't ask for anything, not even a glass of water. Jack makes his plans and keeps on eye on her.

By the time he's got things straightened out, it's getting late. Not too late, but considering what he's been thinking about since the moment he chose the woman out of the lineup, it's more than past the time. He straightens up his bedroom as best he can and finally unties her leash from the piano, taking her into his room.

The leash ends up tied to the headboard, and she's settled in the middle. He kneels on the bed, settling himself between her legs. His hands wrap around her breasts and he smiles, squeezing both of them and enjoying how perfectly they fit into his palms. Jack kisses her and is shocked when he realizes how very dry her mouth is. He draws back immediately, "Why the hell didn't you ask for water?"

She says nothing. Jack just shakes his head. What a stubborn bitch. It's not like she's proving anything. He lets go of her breasts and heads into the bathroom, filling up a glass with water. That look's on her face again when he comes back, confused and distrustful, and when he presses the glass of water up to her mouth, she doesn't open it.

"Don't be fucking stupid," Jack says, and when she keeps her mouth closed, he simply plugs her nose. Time passes agonizingly slow as she fights not to breathe, but she does, and as she sucks in air, he presses the glass into her lips and tilts it. She sucks a little of it into her lungs and spazzes, coughing and shaking. He waits until she's mostly finished and does it again. This time, she actually drinks it. Despite doing her best to act as if she doesn't want it, she drinks every single last drop. Jack actually goes back and gets a second glass of water. He doesn't need to hold her nose shut to make her drink this one, though she glares balefully at him. Jack just snorts, giving her a sarcastic, "You're welcome."

He sets the glass over on his desk and returns to the bed. It's strange, but for a moment, he feels a bit odd. Considering what he's about to do to her, what he just did a few seconds ago doesn't jive. He just pushes it aside. She's a slave. That doesn't mean he has to be a total asshole. But it also doesn't mean he can't do whatever he wants.

And what he wants is between her legs. Jack pushes them open again and licks his lips in anticipation. He glances up at the parcel mistress. She glares at him, even as he slides a couple of fingers inside of her. He rubs them against her clit, just watching that pale pink blush take over her cheeks again. Jack grins, leaning down and running his tongue over a nipple. A little more chest would be nice to put his face into, but he'll settle for this. Some tits are better than none at all. His free hand squeezes her breast while his fingers rub her clit. He lets a finger slide down a little further, prodding at her entrance before slipping one inside.

She stiffens up, and it's hard not to laugh at her. Jack's heard about what the King does to the slave girls. What Jack's got in mind for her is a cakewalk compared to him. But she's still freezing up, like he's doing something awful to her. She should be glad he's not just shoving in. He presses his thumb against the little pale nub, his finger still inside of her. She's warm and a little wet, and his cock twitches at the thought of being in there too.

Jack pulls his fingers out, slicking his cock with what he found. He crawls in closer, pressing the head of his cock against her cunt lips and rubbing it up and down. She shivers and her chest shoves out, sticking her pale breasts out further. He watches her face as he slides inside of her, and he's not prepared for how wonderful she feels, or the way her face changes for a few seconds, unable to hide how she's really feeling.

Maybe he should feel bad about this. Jack's never claimed to be an especially moral guy, but he's got his own code and he follows it. Usually it doesn't involve this sort of thing. But her side lost, and if Derse hadn't come out on top, Prospit would have been just as nasty to them. Maybe Jack would have been in her position, being used by someone else.

It's hard to have a moral debate with himself when he's inside the tightest cunt he's had in ages and she's clamped around him like a vice. And her breasts are right there, and he can do anything he wants. So Jack ignores the little voice in the back of his head and thrusts, groaning as she twitches around him. She's not quite wet enough, but it's not a bad thing. It's making it better for him, and he doesn't really care how she's doing. Still, he glances at her face. She's got herself under control again, staring up at the roof like he's not inside of her.

Jack ignores the drama playing out and digs his knees into the bed, hips pushing into hers. He gets a steady rhythm going, hands on either side of her body. If he leans his head down a bit, he can tastes her breasts. He does, enjoying the way her breath hitches when he licks and bites softly at her nipples. Jack can't believe she was one of the king's whores, not with how tight she is.

"Fuck, you're good," He tells her, and then decides to switch it up. Jack pulls out of her and turns the parcel mistress over, pushing her face-down on the bed. He gets them both on their knees and slides into her from the back, hands settling on his hips as he begins to thrust. With her face down, he can see the buckles holding her arms together. They're good equipment. He imagines the rest of her decked out like that, her breasts wrapped tight in leather, thick straps digging into her ass and thighs. That's something to consider getting for his slave.

She makes a noise. It's a small noise, hard to hear, but he knows it. This angle must be just right for her. Jack thrusts up, and she does it again. He watches her bury her face against the mattress as he keeps thrusting just-so, the ridges on his cock scraping up against her clit while the head roughly bumps against her insides. Jack keeps it up, smiling as her cheeks get pinker and pinker, and her breathing becomes ragged. She's trying so hard to hide what she's feeling, but she can't hide her body's response. She especially can't hide how wet she is, or how great her cunt feels when it starts to twitch around him.

Jack gets closer and closer to his own edge, doing his best to hold off until he can push her over. She fights it of course, closes her eyes and tries hard to pretend that he isn't there. But she can't shut Jack out, not when he's able to read her like an open book. And when she does come, he feels it even before she makes a noise, her entire body just locking up around him. He groans, hips helplessly bucking against her, and like before in the living room, he almost pulls out before he remembers he doesn't have to. Jack shoves in as deep as he can, making his own ragged noises as he comes inside of her. It feels so good with her spasming around him and he just stays there until they both stop.

He pulls out of her with a wet popping noise, finally letting her fall onto the bed, a little bit of cum running out of her. He drops beside her, feeling content and tired. She doesn't look at him, but he can see the after effects on her body. Jack forces her to turn over onto her back, getting a good look at her face. She looks grimly at him, but the affect is ruined by how flushed she is. Jack grins to himself, pressing a kiss to her closed mouth, "See? I'm not such a bad guy. You could have worst masters."

She doesn't say anything, but it doesn't matter. He's right. There are a lot worse than Jack.

There's really nowhere else for her to sleep but with him, and Jack isn't about to just let her lie there with her legs free. He sorts through the closet, settling on a belt that he only wears during important ceremonies and uses it to tie her legs together. The best she can do is maybe kick at him. He grabs a book and settles into bed beside her, flipping open to his bookmark and starting to read.

By the time he feels tired enough to sleep, she's already beaten him to it. He watches her for a little while, enjoying how peaceful she looks like she's sleeping. It'll take some time, but he'll see that look on her face eventually.

Jack marks his place in his book and shuts off the light, falling asleep beside his slave.


	4. Chapter 4

It takes a few days for all the alterations to be made, but they're worth it. The chains mean he can always have her nearby, and even leave her here during the day instead of having to haul her into work. Not that he minds parading her around, but it's hard to work when she's kneeling beside her desk with that wonderfully fuckable mouth of hers. He always manages to make it home before he has her suck him off, but it's torturous some days.

The worst part is that he's not even busy enough at work to keep his mind off her mouth. He processes the few parking tickets that cross his desk and shoots the shit with his sub-agents, mostly the Draconian Dignitary and the Hegemonic Brute. Sometimes he looks in on the news from the Lands, watching footage from the mines and labour camps, making quiet note of how things are progressing. There's trouble there, there's always trouble there, but none here on Derse. Things are so quiet. He can't really complain, not since they've won, but sometimes he actually misses being busy.

But then he remembers his slave, and feels a thrill of anticipation of all the things he's going to do with her when his home is ready. The last few hours of work after the modifications have been made are the worst, and he goes over the same paperwork four times, just to keep busy.

The first thing he does when he has his newly modified home to himself is to try out how the restraints in the bathroom work. Nowhere in all his fantasies about having a slave did it ever occur to him to think about the logistics of cleaning her and letting her use the washroom. But a simple loop anchor fixes most of those problems, allowing him to anchor her in the washroom and leave her there to take care of herself. It means that he can't keep anything sharp in there, or anything breakable, but that's a small price to pay in order to not constantly babysit her.

His second choice is to hook her up in the living room and take the restraints off her arms. It's dangerous, but she's chained up and not going anywhere, and honestly, it looks like she's been in pain over them for the past few days. The parcel mistress isn't able to hide how shocked she is when he takes them off and says, "There you go, stretch out."

Jack leaves the restraints on the counter, since he'll need them sometime later, and then makes dinner. She doesn't move much at first, but as he pretends not to look at her, she does begin to move, stretching her arms and just cautiously moving around the living room. The chain snakes this way and that way, padlocked to the collar around her neck. Only Jack has the key, and it's hanging well out of reach, in the kitchen.

Dinner's nothing fancy, just some chicken and rice with a little sauce, but even he can hear her stomach growling at the smell. She's been stubbornly refusing to speak and so her diet has so far consisted only of water. It's not enough to exist on, and she's going to have to crack sooner or later. He makes an extra bowl for her and leaves it on the counter where she can see it.

Jack walks into the living room and she stops, eyeing him from where she's standing on the other side of the coffee table. He sits down on the couch, not making a move towards her. Jack has a bite of dinner and says, "That bowl's for you. All you have to do is ask."

He's not really expecting it when she does speak, her voice so soft that he almost doesn't hear her, "please," She says and Jack looks over at her, not even sure he's hear her right. PM glances down at the ground and then over at him again, saying it louder, "please."

"Alright," Jack doesn't gloat. He gets up and grabs the other bowl, carrying it over. He sits it on the coffee table and slides it over to her. She eyes him and takes the bowl. Jack pretends that he's reading a book, but he mostly watches her eat. She's absolutely starving, and she wolfs it down, using just her fingers. The only person he's ever seen eat so fast is the Brute. He eats his own dinner at a slower pace and when he's done, he collects both bowls and carries them into the kitchen to wash.

Jack brings her a glass of water and she drinks it down. There's a moment when she finishes and she tightens her hand around the glass. He waits for her to try smash it and attack him with the other end. But as quickly as the moment comes, it slips away and she sets the empty glass on the table. Jack knows she doesn't like him, she's just biding her time, but it's a good sign.

He takes a risk and lets her blow him with her arms free. She's getting better at this. Tonight, she actually does something besides kneeling there and letting Jack fuck her face. She sucks a little on his cock, her hands resting on her knees and not doing anything. Jack strokes the back of her head, encouraging her to do the work for him. She stops eventually though, and he resorts to thrusting up into her mouth. As he gets close, he backs her mouth off of his shaft, grabbing onto one of her hands and wrapping it around him, forcing her to stroke him off. Jack keeps the head of his cock inside of her mouth, and with a little more coaxing, she sucks on it. Between the suction and the stroking he comes in her mouth, and she's used to that by now, stroking him until he's finished.

"That's good," He tells her, absently petting the top of her head, "Keep this up and maybe you can get some clothes."

She looks up at him, and the look of gratitude that briefly flashes over her face makes him feel like a hero, even if it's quickly replaced by blankness.

He's got new restraints for her arms in the bedroom. The cuffs can't be too comfortable, but her arms aren't pinned behind her back anymore. Now they're stretched out above her head. There are some for her legs, but he doesn't feel like he needs to chain those up just yet. She can move a little but she doesn't move at all. The way she's laying with her arms pulled up makes her breasts look bigger and Jack can't help himself, pressing his mouth to one smooth white breast and flicking his tongue across her nipple. She shivers and he does it again, slips curving into a smile.

One hand slips between her legs to warm her up, but before he can get anywhere, there's knocking at the door. Jack considers ignoring it, but at this time of night, he knows that it must be serious. He pulls his hand out and grabs his uniform, dressing as he heads to the door. Jack quickly makes sure he's composed before answering.

He recognizes the woman as one of his subagents. She's still panting, clearly having run all the way here, and she manages to blurt out the news between breaths, "Sabotage. Records office. Bombed."

"Fuck!" Jack already knows that it's going to be a long evening. They're going to need to find who did this immediately. He glances back towards the bedroom, "Fucking- I'll be there right away."

The subagent nods, "Have to tell. Others." She straightens up and sprints off, presumably to find the next highest ranking member. Jack steps back inside, glancing down at his hard-on and cursing quietly. He doesn't have time to do anything about it. The only good thing is that this happened after his apartment's upgrades were finished.

Jack grabs the leg restraints when he walks into the bedroom and cuffs her legs in place, just in case she tries to go wandering, "Sorry doll, duty calls," He tells the blank-faced PM, grabbing his things and going.

It takes him fifteen minutes to reach the Tower, and he ends up filtering in with the mass of other officials and bureaucrats. Everyone looks tired and irritated, their evenings and sleep cut short by the bombing. After he reaches his office, Jack brings up the records office on the fenestrated walls. The damage is worse than he expected. The bomb was planted in the base of the building, and when it blew, the building fell to the right, crushing the apartment located there. He watches as pawns scurry around through the rubble, pulling out records and bodies.

This is a complete fucking disaster. Jack immediately begins diverting security from less important structures and reassigning them to other essentials, like power stations and food storage units. He's in the middle of calculating exactly how many men can be diverted from non-essential projects when the walls snap to the image of the Black Queen, "Report."

"I've diverted security from everywhere I can to guard any other essentials," He tells her, feeling the old hate brewing up inside of him. Just her face can make him furious, it's really astonishing, "I'm trying to see how many we can spare from non-essential but potential lootable areas."

"You have the authority to reassign anyone. And if there is looting, have anyone involved executed immediately," She pissed, maybe more pissed than he's heard her in years, "What about the saboteurs?"

"No news. They're still recovering and ID'ing bodies," Jack's still waiting to hear about that. He did radio the Dignitary to let him know if he found out anything before Jack, but there's hasn't been a sound from the radio in his desk, "You'll know the moment any of us do."

"Make sure of it," The Black Queen cuts the transmission without another word. Jack buries his face against his desk and makes a frustrated noise before returning to work. He does manage to scrounge up enough security to cover Derse's essentials, though it's at the expense of leaving the more 'cultural' buildings open and unguarded. There simply aren't enough soldiers and guards left on Derse to keep everything safe, not when the bulk of Derse's forces are located on Prospit and the Lands. He files his report and sends it to the Queen, knowing she won't bother reading it, and then begins on the paperwork for the destroyed records building.

The sun's rising when he is finally able to go home. He's got time to sleep for a few hours, and then he'll be expected to return to his duties. Jack is dead tired when he finally reaches his apartment, just dropping what work he's brought home with him at the entrance to his apartment and stumbling into his room.

The parcel mistress is sound asleep on his bed, looking like a vision of loveliness when she's all spread out. Jack doesn't even manage to shed his uniform, just crawling into bed and placing his head on her chest. He falls asleep almost immediately, the soothing sound of her breathing enough to send him off.


	5. Chapter 5

The saboteurs are two Dersites. Jack discovers this the moment he walks into his office and sees the report lying on his desk. Two of their own people built the bomb and set it off, hoping to cripple the Derse government.

News of this is being kept quiet. As far as most of Derse knows, the strike was by a few Prospitarian slaves who escaped from one of the colonies and planned the attack independently. Only Jack and a few other officials know the truth. Jack is a bit confused by the whole thing. It's not like there isn't some dissidence, and everyone knows about the battlefield rebellion that the Black King had to contend with, but he finds himself confused that any Dersite would aid Prospit. Attempt to take over the government for your own selfish reason? Jack can get that because that at least makes sense, but aiding the enemy is ridiculous.

The Draconian Dignitary swings by when he has a moment free. He looks as tired as Jack does, but the entire bureaucracy looks exhausted. They've got their own sectors to secure, while also being searched for any other traitors or sympathizers. At least he has food, which reminds Jack that he hasn't eaten since last night.

Dignitary sets the rations container on Jack's desk, "What do you know?"

He offers the Dignitary the report, "Two of our own did it."

"You should watch what you say in front of her," Dignitary takes the report, sitting down in the spare chair. He's referring to PM of course, kneeling by the desk like usual.

"It's not like she can tell anyone," Jack points out, opening the rations containers and dishing out his food. They're civilian rations at least, so while they aren't great, they're not nearly as unpalatable as the military rations. He picks up one of the biscuits, taking a bite out of it, "Did you hear anything?"

"I heard the bombs were made with our supplies," He flips through the report, stopping to read a section here and there. Jack glances over at PM and breaks off part of the biscuit, offering it to her. She leans forward and takes it, lips brushing against his fingertips. Dignitary leans over and takes out one of the tins of pudding, cracking it open, "Already eating out of your palm?"

"Getting there," Jack pats the top of her head, looking through the rest of the ration box. These have become increasingly familiar over the past year. Nobody's starving yet, but he's seen the figures. Derse needs to make the colonies productive as soon as possible. Otherwise they're going to have to start cutting into the meagre rations the Prospitarians get, and when the slave-labour workforce starves to death, it'll be Derse citizens who have to step up and do the jobs. He opens up a tin of fruit and feeds PM a few slices, "You should see the improvements I made to my apartment."

"Is that an offer?" Dignitary looks at PM, making his meaning clear. It doesn't help that PM's licking fruit juice off of Jack's fingers. It's only the threat of constant intrusion from other agents and the Queen that's keeping Jack from shooing the Dignitary off so he can put PM's mouth to better use.

"Not yet," Jack offers Dignitary the rest of the tin of fruit, "I'll bring her to practice tonight. Brute and Droll should meet her first."

"Hm," Dignitary eats the fruit, still eyeing PM up, "Fine. Brute knows, but neither of us have told Droll. It'll be easier for him to understand when he sees her."

That's the truth. Jack and the Dignitary finish their lunch and get back to work. He tries to work, but his eyes keep glancing over to PM, and he's half-hard most of the afternoon just thinking about her mouth. Jack can't risk anything, not when he knows the Queen could be looking in right now.

He makes it through the afternoon and then heads off to band practice. It's not that far from the Tower, and they walk over to it. She's been good and his reward is not tying her up once they're inside the apartment, just making sure to lock the door so she can't get out if she does bolt.

"Hi Jack! Oh! Who's this!" Droll runs over, looking up at PM. He smiles at her, the open honest smile of someone who doesn't quite understand what's going on, "What's your name? I'm the Courtyard Droll!"

"She's the Parcel Mistress," Jack's going to have to find a better name for her, but he's never been really good at that sort of thing, "But she doesn't talk much."

"Oh! That's okay! Can I show her everything?" Droll's eyes latch onto the leash. There's nowhere for her to go if she gets loose, so he shrugs and hands over the lead. Droll yanks on the leash, pulling her around the apartment to show her his things, "You should see my room!!"

Jack keeps an eye on them as the Droll takes her through his apartment. Though, saying it's Droll's apartment isn't quite right. It's really the band's practice space, and Droll just lives in the spare room. Courtyard Drolls don't rank high enough to have their own quarters. Most of them live down in the courtyard's barracks, but this Droll's got friends in high places who need somewhere to keep their instruments, so he gets a room to himself. Nobody bothers correcting the Droll on who's place this is, since they don't give a damn if he wants to call it his home.

The doorknob rattles as someone encounters the lock. Jack makes sure PM's in Droll's room before he opens the door. Dignitary's standing on the other side, "Locked?"

"Droll is playing with PM," Jack says and steps out of the way to let Dignitary in.

"Playing? As in-" Dignitary starts to ask, then spots the two of them coming out of the bedroom, pulling PM around on her leash.

"And this is the Brute's bass," Droll tells her, patting the large instrument and circling around it, "And this is my clarinet!"

"Not like that. Not yet," Jack's still not eager to share. It's strange how territorial he feels. He's never been the sort to get this way about his stuff. But then again, his stuff hasn't ever been a woman.

Jack keeps an eye on them just in case PM gets any thoughts in her head, but she doesn't do anything stupid. She's quite cooperative, following the Droll around quietly. When they actually sit down and play, she sits quietly in the corner, just listening to them. He sneaks glances over at her now and again, trying to decide what she thinks. But it's impossible to tell when her face is so blank. Before they leave, the Dignitary takes another close look at PM, glancing up at Jack for permission. Jack shakes his head no, "Next week," He promises.

"Hmm," Dignitary pats PM's cheek, "Be seeing you soon," And Jack ignores the sudden spike of quiet jealousy he feels.

He's still thinking about it when they get home and he shoves her up against the door, kissing PM. Her mouth stays tightly closed, but Jack doesn't care, his mouth moving across her jaw and neck and leaving behind little marks. Jack shoves her thighs apart, forcing her to bend her knees until her cunt is level with his cock. He pushes inbetween them, shocked to find that she's already wet. He recovers quickly though, grinning up at her, "Been thinking about this huh? What was it that got you all wet? The music?"

She doesn't answer him, heels digging into the floor as she tries to hold herself up at the odd angle. Jack's face is level with her breasts and he nuzzles them, flicking his tongue across her nipples. His hands help keep her up and his cock thrusts in and out of her cunt.

"You like the piano?" He keeps talking, trying to figure out what got her hot and bothered. She's wetter than she's ever been, and it's just getting him even hotter, knowing that he didn't even have to do anything to make her like this, "Or was it lunch? Do you like eating from my hands? I can find plenty of things to feed you. All you have to do is ask."

She shudders and Jack just thrusts faster, getting closer to his own orgasm. PM doesn't seem to be anywhere near hers, but he doesn't care at this moment. All he cares about is getting off. He needs a better angle though, and he reluctantly pulls out of her. Jack yanks on her leash until she drops to her knees, and then it's an easy matter of knocking her over onto her front. He kneels behind her, sliding back into her wet cunt and beginning to thrust again.

Jack knocks her legs as wide as he can, enjoying how passive she is. She can't do anything when she's spread out like this, her entire front pressed against the floor. And Jack's got perfect access to her cunt like this. He leans forward, pressing his body to her back as his hips thrust into her, and peppering her back with small bites. This angle's better for her than the other, because he can hear her breath quicken with each thrust, "Come on doll," He tells her, pressing in as deep as he can go, "Make a little noise this time. I want you to hear you come."

She presses her face against the floor. For a moment, he thinks she's going to be stubborn over this. But then she opens her mouth and moans. It's soft and he only hears it because he's listening, but it's good enough, good enough that Jack thrusts only twice more before coming, his own groans ripping their way out of his throat. He pulls out of her, clumsily sliding his fingers in and rubbing up against her clit. She whimpers, face still pressed tight against his floor, and gasps as she finally comes too.

"Good girl," Is all Jack can manage to say, feeling her body tighten around his fingers. He pulls them out a moment later, slippery with her wetness and his own cum. Jack tucks them into his mouth, tasting the mixture of him and her, "Very good."

It's only later once they're in bed, PM chained to her side of the bed and Jack half-asleep on his side, that his mind wonders if she was wet for the Dignitary. He brushes it aside and goes to sleep, but the seed remains, just waiting to flourish.


	6. Chapter 6

Jack's promised 'in a week' finally arrives. He's got the apartment cleaned up and PM chained in the living room. She knows something's up even before Jack talks to her, "You do whatever they tell you to, and tomorrow you'll get to wear a dress."

She just looks at him with those silent eyes, but he knows she'll do it. Jacks' already got her dress all picked out, just waiting to be worn. It's short and tight, but it's clothing, and she can't be too picky about these things. Of course, she won't wear them in his house, but when they go outside and off to work, she'll get to have a little dignity.

The Dignitary arrives first with a bottle of vermouth. "What the hell's that for?" Jack asks. Vermouth is something the Dignitary drinks, not Jack, so it can't be some sort of belated gift.

"It was meant to be for whenever I got my own girl, but I've been removed from the list. They've sending the next set right back to the mines," The Dignitary explains, stepping into Jack's apartment and heading for the kitchen, "Do you have any lemons?"

"What, seriously?" Jack looks over at PM and feels rather smug that he was lucky enough to get one, "Check the fridge, I think I've got a lime in there somewhere. What the fuck are they needed in the mines for?"

"They're short on workers. The last cave-in killed a few hundred, and production's right down," Dignitary gets a handful of glasses and manages to find the lime. He cuts it up and tosses the slices into the glasses, pouring vermouth on top of them and handing one to Jack. Vermouth's not Jack's preferred drink, especially not straight, but he'll settle for a glass of it tonight. Dignitary continues, "If I'm lucky, they'll keep the next-next set around. Otherwise..."

"Fuck," Jack sips the vermouth. It's bitter, just like most of Dignitary's preferred drinks are, but it's not awful, "Bet you're wishing you were me."

"Usually, no. Tonight..." He glances over at PM, "Your lot in life isn't entirely unwanted."

Jack follows his gaze. PM's been chained in the living room, the couches moved in again. She's got her head bowed, and it's hard to tell if she's sleeping on her knees or if she's been listening in. He meets the Dignitary's eyes and sighs, "Fuck, fine, go have some fun."

"Thanks," The Dignitary clinks his glass with Jack's, "Occasionally, you're not such a cunt."

Jack snorts. The Dignitary walks over to PM, settling down on the couch right in front of her, and Jack takes a long pull from his glass. The Dignitary slips a couple of fingers into PM's collar and brings her forward until she's kneeling right between his spread legs. He hitches up his uniform and pushes her head down onto his cock. Jack doesn't mean to watch, but he can't help it.

The Dignitary keeps a hand wrapped around the back of her head, forcing her up and down. He sips at his vermouth as he watches PM blow him, and Jack does the same, barely tasting it. Dignitary's hand lightens up, and PM's head cautiously moves up and down on it's own. Jack watches with a sick fascination as the Dignitary takes his hand off of PM's head altogether and she keeps sucking on him. It's only when there's a knock at the door does Jack look away and realize that his hand is way too tight on his glass. He sets it down before he can break it and answers the door.

It's the Brute and the Droll. The Brute's got a casserole in his hands, and it would be ridiculous, except the Brute always brings something for dinner when he visits. The Droll is empty handed, but terribly excited, "Jack! Is the lady here?"

"Yeah, but don't bug her. The Dignitary has dibs," Jack says, letting them step into the apartment.

The Dignitary nods to the Brute and Droll as they walk in, "Help yourself to the vermouth."

The Brute heads to the kitchen, picking up the bottle and studying it, eyes widening a little, "This is expensive stuff. We celebratin' somethin'?"

"Mourning perhaps. Though this is certainly worth celebrating," There's a change in the Dignitary's voice, a shift higher in what he's saying and Jack grits his teeth momentarily, finishing his glass of vermouth and pouring another. PM tries to raise her head to see and the Dignitary pushes her back into place, "Bring that bottle over."

The Brute brings it over and Jack follows, not wanting to be too far from the vermouth. Jack takes the armchair and the Brute ends up settling down on the couch beside the Dignitary, refilling his glass. The Droll looks around, and then decides to crawl up on Jack's lap. Jack considers pushing him off and then decides to let the Droll be.

Brute gets a good look at PM, "Can we take those arm restraints offa her?"

Jack bites back the automatic no, instead settling on, "Knock yourselves out."

The Brute takes them off, tossing them onto the couch, and then takes one of PM's free hands and presses it underneath his uniform. PM visibly hesitates, mouth coming to a halt on the Dignitary's cock. The Dignitary simply wraps his hand around the back of her head again and forces her mouth to start moving, not giving her a choice in the matter. Brute does the same with her hand, and before long, she's managing both at the same time.

The Droll watches for a while before turning to Jack, "Does she have her own bed?"

"No. She sleeps in my bed," Jack says, still watching PM's head bob up and down.

"Like a pet," Droll adds, nodding like this is all making sense to him, "That's why she's on a leash. Does she bite?"

"She better not," Dignitary begins to force her head to move faster.

"She hasn't yet," Jack answers, watching as the Dignitary's forces her head all the way down to his base and lets out a shuddering moan. PM's free hand grabs onto the couch, digging into it helplessly as the Dignitary's comes down her throat. He finally lets her up after a moment and she gasps for air, coughing a little, "Don't kill her."

"Aw she's fine," The Brute reaches over and pulls her closer, getting his own uniform up. There's a flicker of fear on her face before he forces PM to begin sucking on his cock. The Dignitary pushes his uniform back into place, sipping at his vermouth and attempting to look composed, even though Jack can see the sheen of sweat glistening at his carapace joints. The Brute doesn't bother, head sagging back, "You're a lucky son of a bitch."

He watches PM awkwardly work her mouth down on the Brute, one hand wrapping around the base of his shaft and stroking it. The jealousy spreads in his chest, not so easily dismissed when Jack tries to push it aside. Jack's cock twitches a little as PM pulls her head off of the Brute to breathe. He quickly guides her back, one large hand wrapping around the back of her head to keep her from doing that again. Jack finishes the second glass of vermouth, barely noticing the bitter taste, "Yeah, I am."

It doesn't take the Brute too much longer, but unlike the Dignitary, he pulls out of PM's mouth, tugging her in closer so her breasts are right in front of him. Her hand hesitates for a second before speeding up again, and when the Brute comes, he splatters across her tits, groaning heavily as he coats her front. The Brute only lets go when he's completely finished and PM backs away from him, ending in the middle of the floor, the remains of the Brute on her outside, and the Dignitary somewhere inside of her.

Dignitary finishes his drink, pouring himself and Jack another one. The Brute just sags against the couch, grinning contentedly, "You're a good friend," He raises his glass to Jack, "To you." The Dignitary silently raises his own glass and Jack nods, drinking his drink and stewing quietly.

The Droll lays his head against Jack's chest and Jack finally pushes him off. He hits the floor but quickly picks himself off, not even really registering Jack's cruelty. Instead, he walks over to PM, reaching out and trying to pet her head. PM flinches back from him, her hands jerking up. She has to visibly restrain herself from grabbing the Droll.

"Droll, come here," The Dignitary can see where this is heading. The Droll heads over, reluctantly casting a look back at PM. Jack takes another drink, not his last of the evening.

They finish the bottle of vermouth, shooting the shit for another hour. Jack amazes himself with his restraint and his ability to carry on a normal conversation when part of him just wants to order everyone out and slam the door in their faces. But they're his friends, and years of friendship overrule his jealousy. So they eat the Brute's casserole and drink half a bottle of Jack's whiskey before the Brute and Droll leave, the Dignitary close behind on their heels.

Dignitary is drunk, and so is Jack, and when the Dignitary slaps Jack on the shoulder, Jack doesn't immediately shake the hand off, "You're a lucky son of a bitch."

"Yeah, yeah, I fucking got that," Jack casts a glance back at PM. She's still kneeling in the living room, and the sight of her makes Jack's cock ache. He's been alternating between hard and half-hard for an hour, and it's really starting to fucking hurt, "Go home. They'll have a new batch of bitches in the future."

"Maybe," Dignitary leans in the doorframe, smiling ever so slightly at Jack, "Maybe you can trade up and I can have the old model."

"Fuck off," Jack says, and it's not nearly as good-natured as it should be. The Dignitary doesn't notice though, and he flips Jack off as he leaves, laughing when Jack returns the gesture. Jack shuts the door and locks it, and then storms into the living room.

She flinches when he comes up. Part of Jack wants to just push her down and fuck her senseless. But there's another part of him, a part of him that wants more than just sex, that forces Jack to take hold of her arms and tie them behind her back before taking the chain off her collar. PM just stares at him, confused as he snaps the leash on, and leads her to the bathroom.

He shuts and locks the door, and then for the first time since he got her, he takes the collar right off of her. Her arms stay tied behind her back because he can only risk so much, but the look in her eyes says that she barely even notices the arm restrains, not when her neck is bare. Jack opens the doors to the shower and gets her to step inside, turning the water on. She gasps as it hits her, and starts to wash away the mess that the Brute left on her.

Jack pulls off his uniform and steps in after her, grabbing a cloth and helping clean her body. He manages to keep his voice level and soothing, even if he's a vault of rage on the inside, "You did good, really good. Tomorrow, you'll have a dress."

He rubs her down, watching as she comes clean and fresh, like brand new. The warm water must feel good because her eyes are closed and she seems at peace. He can't help himself. Jack slips his free hand between her thighs, siding his fingers inside of her. Her eyes stay closed as he strokes her clit, a little amazed at how wet she is.

Jack presses up against one leg, just rubbing his cock against the side of her thigh. His eyes stay fixed on her face, and the slight tremble as his fingers work away at PM's clit. He presses his mouth against the side of her chest, tasting nothing but water. For the first time in a while, thoughts of his own pleasure are quietly shelved and he focuses on her, the way her breath hitches ever so slightly when his fingers speed up.

There's no sound but the shower, the soft patter of water on skin and tile, and PM's breathing as it becomes increasingly ragged. Jack drinks in the look on her face, the way changes ripple across it ever so slightly. Her eyes stay closed, face turned slightly upwards. He could order her to open her eyes and look at him, but he doesn't want that. He wants this, the way her mouth opens just a little, the way her teeth pull on her lower lip. Jack sees her come and he commits to memory the way her face tightens up and then slackens, something that he could almost call happiness washing over her.

He's still staring when he comes too, the friction from rubbing against her thigh just what he needed. Jack bites back any sound and presses his face against her arm, feeling water slosh against his cheek. She stays still, breasts heaving ever so slightly as she tries to get a hold of herself. Jack slides his fingers out and lets the water wash them clean.

They stay like that until the water starts to run cold.


	7. Chapter 7

Somehow, seeing her in clothes makes him want her more. It's not like he hasn't seen her naked or that he doesn't know every inch of her body by now. There's no mystery left to unravel. And yet, seeing her in that black dress just makes him want to blow off work and find some quiet corner of the Tower where he can take his time fucking her.

Jack has her sit on the side of his desk while he works. She sits there quietly while he works, not making a single sound. Occasionally, he reaches out and rubs her leg while he thinks, and tries to decide if he could get away with having her kneel under his desk. His mind conjures up a fantasy that was once reserved for someone else, neatly slotting PM in it instead. He dreams about her head in his lap, sucking him off and swallowing while he conducts his business, just holding his cock in her mouth until he gets hard, and then sucking him off again, and again, anytime he's ready to come.

He's idly doodling on a ticket and thinking about this when his fenestrated walls come to life, startling out of Jack. The Black Queen's looking at him, and he can't even remember the last time she spoke to him directly over the screens, "Jack, come to my chambers immediately. Bring your slave."

Before he can ask why she wants him, and why she's asking for PM, the Queen cuts the connection and the screens go black. He looks at PM and her blank face, but he's learned to read some of her moods by now. Jack can see the spark of fear in her eyes, and he sets his hand on her knee, squeezing it. He knows that whatever the Queen wants can't be good, but he's not about to just hand PM over. She belongs to him.

Still, he's not stupid enough to stall too long. They head further up the tower, Jack easily passing through the heavy tower defences. Since the bombing at the document repository, the Queen has been nearly inaccessible to all. But she must have warned the guards that Jack was coming because no one stops him, simply waving him through.

The double doors of the Queen's chambers greet him, and the guards pull them open, letting Jack and PM step inside. They slam shut behind them, the sound echoing through the Black Queen's rooms. Her chambers are disgustingly ornate. Trophies taken from the devastated Tower on Prospit fill the rooms, and everywhere he looks, he sees gold and purple.

"There you are," The Black Queen walks down her hall, the heavy chain wrapped around her arm. On the other end, the White Queen follows. Her restraints are a great deal more elaborate than the ones Jack has for PM, but PM is nowhere nearly as dangerous at the White Queen, "It's so nice to see old friends again, isn't it? Come along Jack."

Jack follows the Black Queen into the parlour, pulling PM along behind him. He's not sure what's about to happen. Jack hasn't done anything that warrants punishment lately. He's been working at his best since he got PM. So either he's done something he doesn't know about, or the Black Queen is just fucking with him. He's fairly certain that the answer is the obvious one.

The parlour is the same as ever, except for the large throne dominating the end of the room. It's Propsit's throne, and the back has been cleaved in two. The Black Queen chains the White Queen to the base of the throne, and takes her place on the seat. Jack stops in front of it, holding onto PM's leash.

"You remember Jack's slave, don't you?" The Black Queen talks to her double conversationally, as if they're friends instead of master and servant, "Of course you do. You became very well acquainted while she was serving the King. I think we should reminisce a little. Jack, fuck your slave."

"What," Jack had heard her, but he hadn't quite understood what she was saying. He almost pinches himself, just to make sure this isn't an especially vivid dream.

"I said, fuck your slave," The Black Queen crosses her legs, leaning back against Prospit's broken throne, "Make sure to come inside of her. That's an order, if you need some extra incentive."

Jack just looks at her, trying to wrap his mind around this one. It has to be some sort of trap. The moment he gets his dick out, she's going to have him exiled for exposing himself. And if he doesn't, then she can do the same when he fails to follow orders. What the hell is this about? He's been following her fucking orders perfectly lately. If this is some sort of delayed revenge, it's out of nowhere.

The Queen taps her fingers on her throne and then sighs, standing up. She approaches Jack and PM, "What's the problem? It can't be performance issues," Her eyes flick down to the subtle distortion in Jack's uniform where it doesn't hang so smoothly, a remainder of his daydreaming about PM, "I know you enjoy disobeying my orders, but I thought you'd finally left that stage behind when we won. Or are you feeling shy?"

He carefully sorts through words in his head, not sure how to phrase his utter fucking confusion at this turn of events, and coming up with nothing but sentences that will definitely get him exiled. The Queen sighs impatiently, turning her attention to PM. The Prospitarian flinches ever so slightly as the Queen strokes her cheek and smiles at her. And then, she leans in and kisses PM. Jack's mind grinds to a halt, watching the Queen of Derse kiss the mouth of Jack's slave. The Queen is not shy, licking her way inside PM's mouth and seizing her lower lip inbetween the Queen's teeth, biting just hard enough to leave little marks behind when she withdraws.

"Mmm, we've certainly missed you," The Black Queen tells PM, running a thumb over the little teeth-marks on her lip. Jack just stares, feeling hard as a diamond as the Queen sets her other hand on PM's hip, holding her still as the Queen steps in as close as she can, "Tell me Jack, does she still scream and bite? Or did we break her of that nasty little habit."

He's so fucking hard, and the fabric from his uniform keeps pulling and rubbing in the most maddening way against his cock. His eyes are fixed on PM's mouth and the little marks, and the Queen so tight against her, and all he can say is, "You broke her."

"Good," The Queen steps back from PM, and right into Jack's space instead. One hand slides down his uniform, her finger slowly tracing over the shape of his erection, and he bites his tongue to keep from making a sound, "Now, be a good boy, and do as I say, and I'll have a treat for you when it's over."

He should be pissed at her for the way she's speaking to him, but he can't think straight when the Queen's finger is rubbing over the head of his cock. She lets go and steps back, and Jack stops wasting time. He yanks on PM's leash, forcing her onto the ground. PM falls to her knees, and it's easy to topple her over, face and chest pressing against the cool marble floor while her ass stays up in the air. Jack yanks his uniform up just enough and lines himself up, shoving into PM.

The Queen walks back to her throne, taking her place on it, and Jack thrusts into PM, trying to keep his eyes on the back of her head instead. She doesn't make a noise, but Jack doesn't care. He's too busy thinking about how fucking good PM feels, and how hot he is just knowing that the Queen's watching. Jack puts his hands on PM's hips, holding her steady as his hips thrust into her. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees movement, and he glances over. The White Queen has her head lying against the Black Queen's thigh, and as he watches, the Black Queen carefully guides her face between those sleek black thighs. He tightens his grip, wishing he could see more clearly. But all he can see is the back of the White Queen's head, and the Black Queen's spread thighs.

He fixes his eyes on PM, fighting with himself. This is too much. He bites down on the corners of his mouth as hard as he dares and tries to think of anything he can to back down from the edge. It's damn near impossible, especially when the Black Queen starts making little sounds, soft little content sighs that clearly mean something more, and Jack's fingers dig in deeper, trying not to react to them.

PM whimpers softly as he fucks her, and he can see the little pink circles on her cheeks. Her dress keeps sliding down her body at this angle, and there's a wonderful white expanse of skin from her cunt to mid-back, the rest of the dress pooling around her restraints. It shouldn't be sexier to fuck her when she's wearing clothes, but fuck, it is, it so is. The suggestion turns him on harder than the truth, and he already knows how much he likes the truth. His eyes glance over at the Black Queen, and he finds that the truth is the same over there, the suggestion of the Queen's cunt far more of a turn-on than actually seeing it.

He holds off for a long as he can, trying desperately not to come too quickly. But eventually it becomes too much, no matter how he tries to think of other things. Jack's loses his rhythm and he thrusts wildly into her as he hits his apex. His fingers dig into her hips as he slams into PM and comes inside of her, groaning as he fills her. The Queen makes her own noises, still watching as Jack's hips thrust a few more times and then withdraw. PM remains in place on the floor, supported by only her knees, and Jack leans back, hoping that this wasn't too quickly.

"Move Jack," The Queen says, and Jack does, not quite understanding. The Black Queen pushes the White Queen forward, crossing her thighs and watching. The White Queen crawls to PM and presses her face straight into PM's cunt. The parcel mistress gasps, and Jack watches with fascination as the White Queen, the ex-ruler of Prospit, licks the cum out of PM's cunt. This is an image that's going to stay with him for the rest of his life. For once, the Queen keeps her promise and delivers a real treat. He glances at the Black Queen.

The Black Queen watches with flushed cheeks and a cruel smile on her face, a look that can only be called absolute victory. There's a noise from PM and Jack jerks his head back around, watching PM's face go bright pink as the White Queen does her job. PM tries to squirm away, but she goes still after one surprised moment, as if she's encountered something she didn't quite expect. Which is watching Jack's slave eaten out by her own defeated Queen. There's a wonderful irony to all of this that Jack savours.

PM presses her face against the floor, her body tensing and shaking. Jack watches her come, biting her lips to keep from making any sound outloud. The White Queen keeps licking until the Black Queen snaps her fingers, and when she withdraws her face, it is slick with the Black Queen and PM's combined wetness. His eyes fixate on her mouth, a mouth that now knows what Jack tastes like, a mouth that is the double of the Black Queen's.

"Thank you Jack," The Black Queen says, spreading her thighs again as the White Queen crawls over. He sees her cunt for a few seconds before the White Queen's face slots back into place, resuming her duties. Jack licks his lips, and the Queen smiles, one black hand pressed overtop the back of the White Queen's head, "Keep up the good work."

"Yes, your majesty," He manages to say, voice a bit hoarse. Jack stands on uneasy legs, pushing his uniform in place, and pulls PM up off the floor. She's as shaky as he is, and he tugs her skirt down, though it doesn't completely cover her up. Her thighs are slick, and he can see it shine just slightly below the hem of the skirt.

Jack manages to make it out of the throne room before he presses PM against a wall and kisses her. He does nothing else, only touches her face and leash, and greedily presses his mouth against hers. She whimpers a little, and Jack only kisses her harder, hands on either side of her face. When he breaks apart to breathe, he swipes his tongue over her lower lip, feeling the Queen's marks there. PM shudders and he kisses her lower lip again, mumbling softly into her mouth, "You were so good, so fucking good."

He doesn't bother to go back to work. There's no way he could concentrate after this. Jack just slips off home with PM, trusting that the Queen will feel that he's already done his job.

It's odd, but all the way home, PM seems strangely pensive. Even when they arrive back at the apartment and he lays her out over the bed to fuck, her eyes seem to be fixed elsewhere. He dismisses it; having your own monarch go down on you is probably a fairly trying experience.

But fuck, Jack would be happy to try it at least once.


	8. Chapter 8

Another day, and the same routine over and over again. Jack doesn't mind it too much. The work is mind numbing, but he's got PM to shake things up, and there are a thousand things he can do with her, whenever he wants.

The rewards seem to be paying off. She's more willing to do things when he asks her to, and she's a bit better in bed, even willing to suck on him a little when he has her kneeling in front of him. Eventually he'll teach her how to really suck a cock, and then he'll be set. But they're still working their way up to that.

Tonight's reward is a big one, but one he thinks she deserves. She's been feeling a bit ill all week, and she even had trouble keeping her food down the one day. Whatever virus she caught seems to have run it's course, but she's still looking tired and pale. Sleeping in the same bed as him must be throwing her off, and Jack decides to give her a little something, proof that if she's good, she'll be rewarded.

Just before they go to bed, Jack offhandedly says, "You can sleep out here tonight," and the look on her face makes him feel fantastic.

The couch is comfy enough and he even leaves her with a blanket. Everything even vaguely dangerous has been moved elsewhere, and he leaves the door to his bedroom open so he can hear her if she tries anything stupid. And with all the precautions taken, Jack leaves her out on the couch to get some sleep and retreats to his own bedroom.

He reads for a bit before turning off the light and trying to sleep. But his bed feels strangely empty without her lying beside him, and Jack can't fall asleep. He tosses and turns for a few hours, but sleep doesn't come. He's gotten used to her presence beside him, used to the quiet sounds of sleeping, and it's hard to go back to the quiet.

Jack won't be dropping off anytime soon tonight and he finally decides to do something and just look in on her. He silently gets up and heads back into the living room, hoping to catch her sleeping. Jack stops at the mouth of the hall, shocked at what he sees. The parcel mistress has wrapped the blanket around the chain to silence it, and she's kneeling by the loop anchor, trying to unscrew the bolts by hand. All his good-feelings about giving her a little freedom go out the window when he sees her doing that.

Jack returns to his room, grabbing his switchblade before heading back down the hall. This is his home, has been for years, and he knows exactly how to move in it without being heard. She's so busy fumbling with the bolts that she doesn't know he's there until he presses the knife to her throat. He feels her freeze up and it's good, it makes him feel better when he growls out, "Hands behind your back."

The restraints go back on, locking her arms tightly together. Only when they're away does he take the knife from her throat and backs off. She looks back at him, and he slaps her as hard as he can. Another two quick blows hit her, and her head jerks back and forth, PM gasping in shock when Jack backhands her hard enough to make her fall down. The chain clatters as it hits part of the floor not covered by the blanket.

"Get up," He tells her, and when she doesn't move fast enough, he kicks her in the ribs, "Get the fuck up." She struggles to her knees. One of the blows split her lip, and there's a little trickle of red running down from the middle of her bottom lip. It looks black in the moonlight, and Jack stares down at her, fighting the mind-numbing rage he's feeling. He can hit her, but if he keeps hitting her, he won't stop until she's pulped, and he knows that won't teach her a single fucking thing.

Jack leans in again, his face just inches away from hers. She's not making a sound, but he can see her shivering with fear. Looks like she thought he was some dumb bureaucrat that she could pull the wool over on and pretend to be obedient to, just so she could get free and stab him in the back. Here's his reward for being generous and decent, and better than most other owners on Derse. Now it's time for her reward for her treachery.

"I'm going to fuck you in the ass," He tells her, listening to her breathing go fast, "You've got one minute to get my cock wet, or I'll do it dry."

Jack straightens up. She looks up at him, eyes carefully avoiding his cock. That stoic look isn't hanging around her face right now. She's afraid, and she should be. PM's lucky he's even giving her a chance to make this easier on herself. She keeps looking up at him as if she can convince him to back off just by fixing those big eyes on him. His hand twitches and he fights off the urge to hit her again.

"Fifty seconds," He says, and that breaks the spell over her. She wraps her mouth around his cock, sucking on it. It's good, it's really fucking good. He's not sure where she learned to do this, but she learned it well. After the past few weeks of settling for fucking her mouth to get off, he feels furious to know that she was capable of this all the long. She bobs her head, making sure that every inch of his cock is wet with spit, and he gets the feeling that she's hoping he'll come in her mouth. But despite how good this is, she's not fast enough, and he forces her head off of his cock when they get to the end.

He almost expects her to beg, but she doesn't. She stares up at him, blood and spit leaking out of her mouth, and deep inside of him, the part of Jack that has a code of honour feel like shit. It's quickly overruled by his rage that his act of kindness had been disregarded, and he shoves her down onto her stomach, spreading her legs. One hand finds the cleft of her ass and slides down it, forcing her cheeks open. The other goes around his cock, holding it steady as he finds the entrance and pushes against the tight bud. She tenses up and Jack just pushes harder, forcing himself in an inch at a time. If her cunt was tight, this is so much more than that. He groans, just holding on to her as he finishes sliding his cock inside.

It takes some effort to slowly pull back, and then thrust in again. Her hands tighten into fists and he can hear her making distressed noises, trying desperately hard to stay quiet. Jack gets his hands on the back of her waist, holding her down as he slowly slides in and out of her, "It didn't have to be like this," He tells her, giving another hard thrust into her ass, "It could have been nice. You could have slept out here. I could have trusted you without the restraints. But you fucked it all up."

She says nothing, and Jack just keeps fucking her, starting slow but speeding up. It's not going to take long, not when she's this fucking tight and not when she's making those whimpering noises. He doesn't care that it's hurting her. It should hurt her. She fucked things up and she made him feel like a fool. And nobody makes Jack feel like a fool. As his thrusts get faster, his brain whirls away in his head, trying to decide what to do with her. And then it comes to him.

He keeps fucking her ass until he can barely stand it anymore and then he pulls out. Jack forces her onto her back, crawling up her body and sitting on her chest. He wraps a hand around his cock and strokes it, staring down at her face. She closes her eyes and he wraps his other hand around her neck, squeezing until her eyes open up, along with her mouth. He strokes faster and comes, splattering it across her face. He gets in her mouth, and on her cheeks and even in one eye. Jack looks down at her, her face covered in his cum and says, "You can sleep with that on your face as a reminder. I can be a real bad guy if you want me to be."

She thrashes her head around a little, blinking desperately as she tries to get the cum out of her eye. It must hurt like a bitch, but he doesn't care. He slaps her again, one last time for good measure, and the strangled pained noise she makes goes straight through him. Jack can't stand to look at her and he gets off the floor, his legs feeling unsteady. He takes the blanket away and pushes the couches out of reach, leaving her to sleep on the cold hard floor. The door to his bedroom stays open and he listens, just in case she starts crying or begging. But she doesn't make a noise and he eventually drifts off, his rage subsiding and something akin to guilt filling it's place.


	9. Chapter 9

She's still lying on the floor when he emerges the next morning. The parcel mistress sleeps on. There's still cum on her face and blood from her lip, both dried sometime during the night. There are also tear tracks on her face and Jack stares at them, trying to keep his rage up. She deserved it. She was trying to escape. He thinks about the bitch's words, hearing them echo in his head. If she gets loose, it's on your head Jack.

Jack wakes her up when he presses a hot cloth to her face and cleans her up. She flinches but he just holds her head still and scrubs until it's gone. He keeps his grip on her head, "You're not going to do anything that stupid ever again, are you?"

PM says nothing. Jack slaps her, and her head reels back, mouth falling open. He pulls his hand back to hit her again, and she mumbles out a hoarse, "n-no."

"That's fucking right," He lets go and stands up, snarling at her, "Where the fuck were you going to do anyway? Your side lost. Anybody sees you wandering around without somebody holding your leash, they'll assume you ran away. If you're lucky, they'll keep you for themselves instead of calling for an authority regulator or a staunch flatfoot. You want to go back to the King and Queen?"

She casts her eyes down on the floor and says nothing. Jack throws his hands up, frustrated by the whole thing, and storms off to his bathroom to shower and try clear his head.

His plans of leaving her at home are shot. Jack can't trust her alone, even restrained, so he takes her with him to work. He's in a foul mood and he's rougher than he should be, yanking hard on her leash anytime he switches directions. She doesn't make a sound and it would be better if she would just make a fucking sound, even if that noise was cursing him out or crying or something, anything.

Jack ties her to his desk and savages his work, trying to out his frustration onto his daily paperwork. But there's been a lot less paperwork since the war was won, and by noon, he's out again, desperately going through his list of old stuff just to find something new. Jack could ask for more work, but he's not stupid enough to do that. He asks for it just once, and he'll have to keep doing it until the end of time.

His day's at least somewhat broken up when the Dignitary drops by, sparing a glance for PM and then talking to Jack, "Busy?"

"I fucking wish. I've done everything worth doing," He fiddles with the quill in his hand, spinning it between his fingers, pausing to yawn.

"Long night?" Dignitary asks, and there's a sly smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Not the way you're thinking," He looks at PM. She's busy staring down at the carpet. There's a bruise forming on her cheek. Jack pitches his voice lower, not wanting anyone else to hear, "She tried to escape. And failed," He reminds her, hoping that maybe he'll get a flinch for his efforts. But she gives him nothing.

The Dignitary crouches down, hand grabbing PM's face and forcing her to look at him. He just studies PM's face, turning it this way and that. Dignitary doesn't take his eyes off of her, even as he talks to Jack, "You're going to have to put her in her place."

"Don't I fucking know it," Jack throws the quill down on his desk, sighing, "What a pain in the ass."

"If you don't want her-" The Dignitary starts to say but Jack's shaking his head no even before he can finish. He's not about to give her up because they hit one bump. Dignitary shrugs, no skin off of his nose if Jack keeps her, "If you're not busy, I've got something worth doing."

Jack's interested in the sudden invite. Whatever the Dignitary's up to, it's got to be good, "Yeah? What?"

Turns out that they're holding executions in the Public Square. The Dignitary's been handling the paperwork on that mess and he's entitled to a few seats. Jack can't think of anything better to do, so he tags along, dragging his slave with him. They're not front-row of course, that's saved for the generals and war heroes, but they're pretty close. Close enough that Jack can smell the blood when they draw and quarter the Prospitarians.

The Black King and Queen are there, watching from their private box. The King seems distracted and he leaves partway through the performance. The Queen remains until the end, she and her doppelganger watching every dismemberment. Jack is kinder and when PM closes her eyes, he allows her to. He rests on hand on her thigh and now and again, certain voices make her shiver. Jack wonders if she knows them, if any of the men and women down there were her friends, or perhaps a lover, or if they just sound like people she used to know.

By the time the executions end, he's feeling much better. There's something soothing about violence, as if watching other bleed and die has managed to drain out the worst of his rage. Meanwhile, PM's all nerves, twitching when he rubs his hand along her leg. He's more than a little pleased at this sudden turn-around and he's not so rough when he leads her home. Jack hasn't forgotten her little stunt last night, but he's not so bent out of shape over it.

At home, he chains her in the living room and pushes one of the couches back towards the middle. Jack dumps his uniform on the floor and she automatically gets to her knees. He gets his hand on her collar and pulls her up again, "No. Not that."

Jack sits on the couch, pulling her forward. It's somewhat awkward with her hands still bound, but he manages to get her onto his lap, legs on either side of him. He presses a few fingers into her cunt, warming her up. She's slow to do so today, probably the nerves and the memories of the executions. But Jack's persistent and eventually she's wet enough for his purposes. He fists his cock, stroking it a few times, and then guiding her down on top of him. Her eyes fix on the wall behind him as Jack impales her on his cock, sliding her down as far as she can go. He takes a moment to adjust and then... just waits.

She doesn't look at him. Jack has to fight to keep from thrusting up into her, but he manages to keep himself under control. The longer he waits, the harder it is for her to just ignore him. And finally, her eyes come away from the wall and fix on him. Jack rests his hands on the tops of her thighs, "Come on doll, you know what to do. Don't be coy."

PM blinks, and she can't hide the sudden confusion that darts over her face. He rubs his hands along her thighs, cock twitching a little inside of her. She shifts, pauses, and stares at him with a rabbit-in-the-headlights look. Jack slips his hands around to grasp her ass, forcing her to roll her hips forward and then back. She finally gets it but she stays stock-still, as if somehow she can get away with being passive now.

He's not about to accept that for an excuse. Jack takes his hands off of her, leaning back against the couch, "The longer you don't do this, the longer I'm inside of you. And if you take too long, I'll find something else to do," He doesn't specify the threat, but after today's entertainment, he has a feeling he won't need to.

Jack's right. There's no defiance in her eyes as she begins to move, awkwardly sliding herself up and down. It's not the best angle, but Jack doesn't care because she's moving for him and that's worth it's weight in gold. He takes it all in; the way her breasts quiver on the downward motion, the juxtaposition of his dark cock sliding into her pale cunt, her face as she tries to shut out everything. He leaves his arms where they're resting on the back of his sofa, just watching as she fucks him almost of her own free will.

She starts adjusting part-way through, trying to shift her hips in different ways. He can't figure out what the hell she's doing until he notices the pink spots burning high on her cheeks. Jack grins at the irony. She's going to make herself come, and she'll have nobody else to blame. After all, she's the one working herself on Jack's cock, not him. He manages to hide the smile by the time she looks at him, and he keeps a steady face as his shaft goes in and out of her. The wetter she gets, the better it feels, Jack easily sliding deeper inside of her as her knees slip out a little and she sinks down even further.

Her breasts are too small to heave, but they do something similar enough as she fights with her body. Every undulation from her body gets him one step closer, and it's a struggle not to just grab onto her and start thrusting. He grips the back of the couch and focuses on her face and the way she bites her lower lip, fighting off the sensation. All it would take is a single hard press of a thumb to send her reeling over the edge, but he waits, wanting to see her do it to herself. Her cunt is hot and wet around his cock, just begging him to come inside it, and he focuses on her to keep this just off in the future. She tries to slow her hips down, but it's not the speed, it's the angle and the angle is almost right. Jack decides to cheat and as she lifts herself up, he moves his hips just a little. On the downslide, his cock rams home inside of her, hitting the little cluster of nerves she's been trying to avoid.

The effect is immediate, PM jerking solid like a shot of electricity's running through her. She spasms, and he has to grab her waist to keep her from falling. Her cunt tightens around him and her mouth falls open into a silent 'o' shape, eyes fluttering shut as she comes. And that's all it takes, that and a thrust upwards, and Jack's coming with her. He forces her hips down onto his, cock pumping her full of cum as she writhes around in his hands. They're both dazed when her body pitches forward and she ends up leaning on his chest, Jack still buried to the hilt inside of her but no longer hard. He catches his breath and just holds onto her, enjoying how she continues to pulse around him and how smooth her carapace is.

Only when she tries to lean back does he make a move, pushing her off of his cock. She ends up lying on the couch beside him, struggling to sit up. He just pushes her down, hand grabbing onto her breast and giving it a squeeze. She's flustered and flushed, and he would like to capture her face right now and keep it forever.

Jack gives her knee a pat and gets to his feet, leaving her sprawled on the couch. He makes dinner while she's like that, struggling to get up with her arms bound and lying at an awkward angle. She does get up, eventually, and simply stares at him. Tonight, he doesn't make a second bowl of food for her. He sits in the kitchen, eating in plain sight and flipping through his book, almost finished from all the reading he's been doing this week.

It's only before he goes to bed that he speaks with her, once again moving the furniture away so she has to sleep on the floor, "It's going to be a long road to earn my trust," He tells her, making sure there's nothing nearby she can use to fiddle with the loop anchor's bolts, or to quiet her own chain if she chooses to try move around, "If you ever want to eat with your hands and wear clothes again, you're going to have to grovel. Keep that in mind when you decide to keep your mouth shut."

He still doesn't sleep well, bedroom door open and Jack listening with half an ear. At least he doesn't hear her trying anything tonight.


	10. Chapter 10

PM's better behaved after the whole escaping stunt. The execution must have gotten through to her because she doesn't piss him off. Well, she still doesn't speak, but the problem is that she's just not hungry enough to speak. Jack leaves her to sleep on the floor and avoids giving her anything but a dish of water to drink, and by the fifth day, she looks at that night's dinner and manages a soft, "please."

Jack doesn't untie her hands. She hasn't earned that back. He feeds her instead, cutting her meat up into small strips and feeding them to her one by one on a fork. Jack knows it must kill her to eat like this, begging scraps from his table, but she eats quickly and without any defiance. That night, he puts down a few couch cushions for her to sleep on as a reward. He checks on her a few times, just to make sure she's really sleeping on them and not attempting to escape again. Each time he looks out on her, she's sleeping like the dead on her makeshift bed, chain pooled on the floor.

When he wants sex, he takes it from her hard and fast, not giving her a chance to enjoy it. She'll have to earn that privilege back too. Jack gets in the habit of simply shoving her face-down on the floor and fucking her that way, not giving her any opening or chance to fight back. She gets hot and bothered a few times, but he always makes sure to finish before she does, just to drive it in. Jack likes watching her squirm around, fighting off the urge to beg him to finish her off. She'll beg him one of these days, but he's got the patience to wait for that turn of events.

There's a rebellion on the Land of Frost and Coral, and Jack watches the footage over his Fenestrated Walls at work. It's an ugly affair. The White pieces are perfectly camouflaged in the white and soft pink of the world, and it's nearly impossible to see them moving until you see the flash of gunfire, or the swing of a spear between two spirals of ice. There's fresh blood on the ground, and even more disturbing, reports of Derse deserters aiding the Prospitarian's rebellion. Once again, Jack can't imagine why they would do it or what there is to gain in aiding a futile resistance.

They're watching when the dreadnaughts surrounded the planet and begin their orbital bombardment. PM flinches at the sound of explosions and he places a hand on her back, stroking between her shoulder blades, “Don't get worked up about it doll. They should have known better.”

He's sure she glares at him, but when he looks down at her face, she's staring silently at the ground. Jack just looks at her before returning to his paperwork, letting the short and violent war play out over the Walls. He finds it comforting, just as he finds PM's presence comforting.

The day goes by slowly and he's all too glad to finally go home to his apartment. Like usual, he's excited when he steps into the apartment, wanting nothing more than to just enjoy PM in whichever way he wants. But he wants something different than just sex with her helpless body. He wants confirmation of something he discovered the night she tried to escape. Jack pulls her over to the couch and sits down on it, and she looks at him blankly.

"Blow me, doll," Jack says, spreading his legs. PM kneels down between them, waiting for Jack. He undoes the clasps on his uniform and gets his dick out. Jack doesn't bother to get hard, knowing that her mouth will do the trick. She slides her mouth overtop his cock, but then does nothing. Jack pushes her mouth off him, yanking hard on her leash. She makes a soft choking noise as it tightens, "We both know you can do better than that. Don't make me ask you again."

When he lets go, she sucks in a breath of air and coughs. Jack tugs her back towards his dick and she comes without a fight, lowering her mouth onto his cock again. This time, she does more than just hold it in her mouth. She starts to suck on it, head bobbing up and down a little. Jack watches, taking in all the details that he never had a chance to before.

She's good at it. PM strokes her tongue over his ridges and moves her mouth in just the right way, the suction of it feeling oh so fucking great. Her tongue slides up and over the head of his cock, and he wonders how often she's been on her knees like this for other men. More than a few times, that's for fucking sure. Maybe for others of her kind. Maybe for others of his.

"You do this a lot?" He says, and grins when she stills, "Don't be like that. How'd you get so good? Boyfriend or husband?"

PM glances up at him, her mouth still wrapped around his cock. Her mouth is so hot and wet, and her tongue keeps sliding over his ridges. She pulls her mouth off, licking her lips, and shocks the hell out of him when she speaks, "Neither. Just friends."

It's the first thing out of her mouth that wasn't a 'please'. Jack's so hard, and right now he wants her mouth on him, but more than that, he wants to hear her speak again, "You always do this sort of thing for your friends? Sounds like girls are more fun on Prospit than on Derse. I always liked them a little slutty."

She stares up at him, and her facial expression is totally unreadable for a moment. Before he can ask her what she's thinking, she slides her mouth back down his cock. She's faster this time, head bobbing steadily as she drags her lips and up down his shaft, sucking steadily on him. Jack groans, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck. His mind serves up images of her going down on other men. Jack feels the overwhelming flood of jealousy, even as he feels the punch of arousal going straight through him.

PM has her mouth working over the head of his cock when he comes. She swallows and Jack just groans with shock as she keeps sucking on him, tongue working across head even as his cock finished pumping out cum and grows limp again. He pants and stares at her, watching as she carefully licks up every last drop, “Fuck,” Jack manages, voice strained, “I think I want to be your friend all the time, doll.”

She licks her lips and stares up at him. He expects some smart remark from her mouth but there's nothing. Nothing but that same blank look anyway. Jack puts a hand on her head, rubbing the curve of it. She needs a reward, not for blowing him, but for speaking at all. It has to be something big, but not something that might endanger him. Something she likes. Of course, it's hard to tell what she likes when she doesn't speak.

That night he sleeps soundly, not worrying that she'll escape during the night. When he comes out that morning, she's where she always is, arms bound and chain lying in place. She's perfectly behaved through the whole day, and he racks his brain again and again, trying to decide on the perfect gift.

He spots the perfect gift for her after work while running some errands. She doesn't even notice when he picks up the box of stationary and runs it through with his other purchases, her eyes fixed solidly on the floor of the shop as she tries to avoid the stares of the other patrons.

Jack waits until they're home for a bit before giving it to her. He chains her up in the living room like usual, and then pushes a coffee table beside her. She stares blankly at him and then at the table, as if she can’t quite comprehend what’s going on.

“I got you a present doll, since you were good last night,” He tells her and sets the box in front of PM. Her eyes fix on it. Jack opens it up for her, showing PM the lovely crisp purple sheets of paper, just waiting to be covered with writing, “You can write some letters up and deliver them. It’ll sorta be like what you used to do.”

She doesn’t look at him. Her eyes stay fixed on the paper. Jack isn’t sure if she likes it or not. Jack thinks that she must like it, at least a little, or she wouldn’t keep looking at it.

“I’m going to take the restraints off so you can write some stuff. But let me be clear, this is your last chance,” Jack grips her chin tightly, forcing her to look at him as he speaks, “If you act out against me again, I’ll have your arms amputated. Got it?”

She can’t move much in his grip but she manages a single nod. Good. He lets go of her head and fetches the inkwell and pen, setting them beside the stationary. Jack undoes the restraints, waiting to see what she’ll do. She awkwardly stretches her arms, and then carefully draws out a single sheet of paper. Jack watches as she dips the quill into the ink and then hovers her pen over her paper.

He leaves her alone to write, stepping into the kitchen to make dinner. Halfway through, he glances out at PM and sees that she’s on her third sheet of paper. The first two are lying on the table, and though it’s too far away to see individual words, he can see that the page is just covered in a wild scrawl of them. She’s writing like a woman possessed. Jack understands on some level. He’s a writer himself, though he writes music, not letters, and he’s felt possessed from time to time when creativity strikes, demanding that he pour it out and make it useful.

Dinner is rice and vegetables. The meat ration has all been used up and there won’t be any more for a few days. Jack carries the bowls over and sets PM’s beside her, settling in his chair. He picks up one of the sheets of paper, and PM freezes up. Jack laughs a little, “Relax doll, I’m just looking.”

His eyes scan the letter. It doesn’t make much sense. It’s a mess of sentences that have little or no connection with one another, shopping lists and street addresses and passages that he’s pretty sure are from books because they seem so familiar. Its gibberish and he’s actually disappointed because he thought maybe he would actually learn something about her.

Jack sets it back on the table, watching as she goes back to writing out more. From what he can see, it’s just another letter full of nonsense. She ignores her food as she writes, the gentle scribble of quill on paper the only sound in the whole house. Jack waits and waits, and when he can’t stand it any longer, he says, “You know, you could say ‘thank you’.”

Her hand stops on the paper. She doesn’t look up at him when she speaks, “Thank you.”

“That’s more like it,” Jack feels mollified and he starts to eat dinner, just watching her slowly fill every page of paper in the box with words.


	11. Chapter 11

He puts in a request for all information about the Parcel Mistress on file. It’s not a lot. Most of Prospit’s records were destroyed when their world fell. But there’s a little here and there. She was a Parcel Mistress in her old life, picked up by a patrol on the Land of Bells and Cyclone and brought to Derse to serve as the Black King’s whore. She was only in his service for two months before she ended up with Jack.

Jack finds bits and pieces of film here and there, footage of PM being dragged into the hall with the other slaves, yelling and fighting every step of the way. In thirty seconds of film, she says more than he’s ever heard her say. She spits and fights and yells, and Jack feels himself grow even more fascinated with her. There’s a photo of her as well, standing with the rest of the King’s whores. Her eyes are boring holes in the camera. And no matter how hard he looks, he can’t find anything from before Prospit fell, not one single photo or frame of video where she’s smiling or happy, or anything other than angry or blank.

There are some files and a few pieces of video that he doesn’t have the clearance to see, which is a shock because the only person with clearance higher than him are the Queen and King, and maybe a few of their most high-ranking generals, and because she’s a Parcel Mistress. Jack finds the whole thing suspicious, and he puts in a request to see them through the proper channels for once. If it’s denied, then he’ll have to start calling in favours. It’s only right that he knows exactly what the Parcel Mistress has done and who she was.

She earns her privileges back faster than before. PM is still silently defiant, but even that seems to be changing bit by bit. Jack rewards her, buying her little things to make it clear how much he likes this change. He gets her a pillow for her head and knees, and a little book of Derse poetry, and he reads it to her while she kneels in front of him and does exactly as she’s told.

He constantly talks to her. The few times she’s answered him are times when he’s asked her a question. So that’s what he does, constantly asks questions. Stuff like “You got anybody on Prospit?” or “What do you want to eat” or “Tell me what you want to do”. He puts the ball in her court, though most of the time, she just watches it roll away from her and says nothing at all. But sometimes, he gets a bounce back.

Jack gets one when he asks her offhandedly, “You got a favourite song?” He’s been playing the piano for an hour or so now, PM chained up in the living room like usual, listening to Jack while he messes around. Jack’s already flipping through one of his songbooks when he gets his answer.

“Oh My Darling, Clementine,” She says softly, pen going over the paper. This is her second box of stationary. The first was all used up in two days time, and she ripped the pages into even strips, writing on those too until it was a mess of black ink. He finally broke down and got her another box. There were purple letters everywhere in his house, and she even brought them with her to work, ‘delivering’ them to his desk and then carrying some of them back home to do the same with. It was kinda endearing.

But this was new. A song. Jack racked his brain. He knew a lot of songs, and this one sounded familiar, but he didn't actually know how to play it, “I don’t know that one doll. You want to show me?”

“I can’t play,” She said, and that was two sentences in less than a minute.

“Come on, we’ll try it together,” He motioned for her to get up and come over. She stood after a moment, moving as close to him as her chain would allow. Jack rolled the piano and bench closer so she could sit beside him, “How does it go? Sing me a bit.”

She stares at him. Jack just waits, making a go-on gesture. PM looks at the piano and her face reflects back at them both from the dark depths of the piano. If she’s said two things already, Jack thinks, maybe she’ll say this too. He waits and waits, and she finally opens her mouth. Her voice is wobbly and a bit off-key, but it’s not bad, “In a cavern, in a canyon, excavating for a mine, dwelt a miner fourty niner, and his daughter Clementine.”

Jack waits until he has the basic tune and starts to play along. She goes quiet as Jack figures out how it probably went, “Sound right?”

She stays quiet, waiting for the song to loop around. When she speaks this time, it’s soft and barely singing at all, “Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling, Clementine. You are lost and gone forever, dreadful sorry, Clementine...”

That’s all she’ll sing. No matter how many times Jack loops the song, she won’t tell him the rest. But it’s a start, and she almost seems to be enjoying herself, “Come on doll, put your hands on the keyboard, I’ll teach how to play the start.”

It’s a simple song. He gets her fingers on the proper keys, showing her how to press down just right. She must have playing around with someone else’s keyboard before because she picks it up very quickly, and by the second run-through, it sounds almost like it should. Jack takes a hand off the keyboard, letting her take over the parts exclusively, and then wraps it around her side, sliding it overtop of her breast.

She starts to freeze up and he just strokes his fingers across her nipple, listening very closely to the way her breath hitches, “Don’t get all distracted. Focus on the song.”

Her fingers move awkwardly over the keys as Jack presses his mouth against the curve of her shoulder, kissing it softly as his hand slides further down, fingers trailing over her stomach and then curving and sliding into her cunt. She stays rigid and his mouth and fingers press against her, and all the while, her fingers keep playing the piano, though she’s going slow and she keeps missing notes here and there.

It's easy to find her clit, easy to stroke it in time with her playing. Her playing gets odder and odder, and she tries to stop but he just makes her hand move over the keys again, forcing her to cycle throgh the song. He nips at her shoulder, watching her fumble her way through the melody. Jack circles his fingers around her clit steadily, watching the pink slowly flood into her cheeks.

He takes her one hand off the keyboard, pressing it onto his cock. His free hand picks up where she left off, easily finding the notes she was missing, “Come on doll, don’t you know how to do piano two hands? Maybe next time we’ll step it up to four.”

She says nothing, biting her lower lip as her cheeks get more and more flushed. The hand on his cock moves reluctantly at first, but after he starts really rubbing her clit, he gets a little more action out of her. It's hard to concentrate on playing when she's jerking him off, but compared to her playing, he sounds fantastic. She's barely hitting her keys now, cheeks burning as she gets wetter and wetter.

Jack keeps nipping at her shoulder, one eye on the keys as he plays. They stroke one another in time, and he shouldn't enjoy this so much, but he does. He likes watching her body slowly react, the way her nipples go hard, the way the pinkness creeps up the edges of her face, and how she bites her lower lip, trying to hold back sounds.

"Don't be shy," He tells her, fingertips circling her clit steadily, "Come on, let me hear you. Let me hear you."

She closes her eyes, and her mouth opens just a little, just enough to let out a soft moan. The sound gets Jack right close to the edge, and he has to fight not to thrust into her hand. He wants this to be all her getting him off, her steady strokes from her long fingers doing everything he wants and needs. It's tempting to bend her over the piano and just fuck her cunt, but he holds off, worrying about her needs.

PM keeps moaning and Jack can't help, grunting softly as her hand speeds up, "Fuck. Yeah that's it doll, just keep that up. Fuck, you do this for your friends too?"

"Yes," She says, and he groans, rubbing her clit as quickly as he can. PM's breath starts to hitch as she gets close too.

"Fuck, you're such a slut. I fucking love it," He tells her, leaning back to get a good look at her red cheeks as she gets close, "I bet you just wish I'd bring other guys around to fuck you. Maybe I should have the Brute and Dignitary over again. Maybe this time, I'd like them stick it in you and fuck you raw-"

PM goes rigid as she comes, making a long, loud 'aaaah' noise. Jack jerks his hips into her still hand and quickly follows her, muttering 'fuck, fuck' over and over again as he comes over her hand. They've both stopped playing the piano, their hands resting roughly on the keys.

She leans into him when they’re done, shuddering and breathing heavily. Jack presses his cheek against her shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment, “You’re wonderful doll, really.”

PM says nothing, but that’s fine. He wasn’t expecting an answer.


	12. Chapter 12

The Dignitary drops by while Jack’s in the middle of yelling at this stupid fucking Authority Regulator who insists on dropping off pointless tickets and reports. The fat tub of lard seems to be too fucking stupid to pick up that he’s not welcome and he just keeps staring awkwardly at the carpet, or anywhere in the office that isn’t Jack or PM.

When he spots the Dignitary, Jack just points to the door, yelling, “Get the fuck out of here!”

“Sorry!” The Regulator grabs the pointless paperwork and goes rushing from the room, nearly tripping over himself. Jack snorts and leans back into his desk, glaring in the agent’s general direction.

“Don’t tell me you still have people attempting to do their jobs,” The Dignitary takes his usual seat.

"Most of them have fucking given up, but that one just keeps coming back," Jack puts his feet up on his desk, "I'm sure he only comes back here to get a look at her," He nods to PM, kneeling by Jack's desk in her usual spot.

"Well I certainly don't come here for your company," The Dignitary glances at PM, and Jack feels that quiet pang of jealousy rear it's ugly head as the Dignitary's eyes slowly drag over PM's naked body, "How's she been behaving?"

"Better," Jack reaches out and pats her on the head, "She's been a real good girl lately. We just needed to sort a few things out."

"We'll need to celebrate again sometime soon," Dignitary's eyes settle on PM's mouth before pulling away, "Did you see the newest batch of slaves?"

"No, I didn't realize they were already in," He should have though. Things have been quiet the past few days. It always gets quieter with new girls around, "Did they still send the old slaves back?"

"They were shipped out this morning. I had to process their paperwork," The Dignitary picks up one of the tickets off of Jack's desk, glancing over it, "I was tempted to have one of them assigned to my department for my usage, but the Queen would notice eventually."

"She's always got her fucking nose stuck where it doesn't belong," Jack lounges in his chair, then straightens, up, "Did I tell you that she called me and PM up to her chambers a few weeks ago?"

The Dignitary doesn’t sound surprised, “Of course she did. She calls all the men with slaves up.”

“Fuck, I didn’t know that,” Jack isn’t sure how he feels about this revel. In a way, he’s strangely relieved. He’s spent the past while with questions lurking in the back of his head. To find out that every other man goes through it takes the pressure off of Jack. And yet… he is a bit disappointed. And in another way, he’s even more curious than before, “What’s it about?”

The Dignitary looks around before leaning in close and Jack does the same, “It’s her way of punishing the White Queen when Prospit rebels. Remember about a month ago when they bombed the records office? From what I heard, she made the White Queen watch while the Black King fucked three of the new girls until they were crying, and forced her to clean them up afterwards."

Jack feels a swell of conflict in him, his cock happily responding to the idea of the White Queen on her knees licking three girls clean, while the moral part of his brain hangs back a little, not feeling terribly okay with the thought of someone being raped until they wept. He knows it's hypocritical of him to think like that, especially when those girls are the enemy and they're getting only what Prospit deserves. And yet...

He shoves it aside, "You should have seen the White Queen going down on PM. She didn't even resist. The bitch did exactly as she was told. It was enough to make me wish I had two."

"Greedy fuck," Dignitary looks at PM again, "I'd settle for having just one."

"Get yourself put back on the list then," Jack pats PM on the head, "Or find some other way to get a hold of one."

"I've heard that if you work in the colonies, you've got your pick of the women there. Anytime, any place, any way you'd like. You just pick one and they have to do as they're told."

Jack raises his eyebrows, "Sounds like a sweet fucking deal. Why don't you get in on that?"

"There's a waiting list to get a job out there, especially if you're not a guard," The Dignitary slouches a bit in his chair, looking annoyed, "There's no chance of me getting on that either."

The Regulator stumbles back in, “Um. I. I took the wrong thing.”

Jack looks. The paperwork is still sitting there. The Regulator quickly brings over his own stack, which is made up of already processed tickets and a few of PM’s letters, “You fucking knucklehead, be more careful!”

“Sorry, so sorry-” He keeps apologizing, even as he grabs the right papers and leaves, still averting his eyes from everyone in the room. Jack snorts. The pathetic weakling is probably going to go home after work and jerk off while crying and thinking about what little glimpses he did see of PM.

“The shit I put up with,” Jack says, leaning back in his chair again. He sets a hand on PM’s head, stroking it softly.

"Considering what you've got, I don't think you should bitch too much," Dignitary gets up, "I've got my own work to do. A new code came in and we've got to try break it."

"Another code?" Jack's glad he doesn't have to worry about that shit sometimes. The Prospitarians have taken to transmitting messages through alternative methods. Just last week, they caught some using morse code to communicate to one another in the jails, "Some days I'm glad I'm not you."

"Only because you have no idea what it is to be me," He leans down and gives PM's cheek a pat before heading out, "See you around."

"Yeah, see you,"Jack watches him head off and looks at PM, "What a fucking day, eh doll? Don't worry, we'll be heading home soon enough."

She just looks at him and then slips her eyes over to the rest of the room again. At least she doesn't stare at the floor anymore. She's actually willing to look around. Jack talks to her while he's working, telling her about his job and what's happening here or there. The day goes faster when he's got someone to talk with, or talk at really.

They head straight home as soon as they can, Jack taking the shortcuts to get them home as quickly as he can. He's got tickets for them to see a play tonight, and it's all about the War, so Jack figures they'll both like it. Of course, they've got a few hours before it starts and he plans to put them to good use.

As soon as they're in the door, Jack gets his uniform off and kisses her. She's very cooperative today, and something niggles in the back of his mind. PM's always so cooperative when they see the Dignitary. Jack draws back and looks at her, really looks at PM.

He's barely started on her and she's already got little pink cheeks. Hell, she's had them since they left the office, since the Dignitary paid his little visit. Jack feels jealousy rear it's ugly head. He slips his fingers between her thighs, and finds that once again, she's already wet.

Jack loses it. He shoves her back into the wall as hard as he can and her legs give out, dumping PM on the floor, “You ungrateful fucking whore! I’ve given you so much, so fucking much, and who do you get all fucking wet for? Him?!”

She curls up into a ball and Jack kicks her, because he’s got to do something or he’s going to go nuts. He connects and she curls up tighter, gasping for air. Jack’s head is still buzzing with an impotent rage. She belongs to him, and he’s still playing fucking second-fiddle to the Dignitary. He kicks her again before stumbling back into the couch, shaking furiously.

“Do you want to be his pet? Huh? Would you talk to him? I bet you’d be real fucking chatty with him!” He can’t stop talking. Jack cannot shut his mouth, and a stew of insecurities just comes pouring out, “So what’s he got that makes you so fucking hot for him? How about you fucking tell me what you want instead of always staying so quiet and maybe I could give it do you! Is it the height thing? You just want tall guys? Why don’t you fucking answer me?!”

“’sfriend,” PM gasps out, voice strained and quiet as she tries to catch her breath, “L-looks like. M-my. My friend.”

“Your friend,” Jack says dully, staring down at her. PM’s face is so red and her chest heaves as she struggles, “He looks like your friend. One of those friends you were always blowing?”

She nods, “S-same. Same build a-and. Everything. I see him a-and. I think of- m-my friend.”

He stares at her for a moment before walking over and kneeling beside her, “You’re telling me the truth? If you aren’t, and I find out, I’ll-”

“’s the truth,” She gasps out, looking up at Jack, “It’s the truth.”

Jack’s fists clench and unclench, and he helps her sit up, getting his arms around her. He just holds onto her, resting his head against her shoulder, “I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I don’t want to hurt you. But. You just. You have to tell me these things. I can’t read your mind. You have to say them out loud.”

She nods, crying a little, and Jack just holds her tighter, shushing her softly. It’s okay. She’s not attracted to the Dignitary. He just reminds her of someone. It’s not perfect, but. It’s better than her wanting the Dignitary.

“We’ll fix this,” He tells her, head still lying against her back while her chest shakes with repressed sobs, “You and me doll, we’ll get this right. I promise.”


	13. Chapter 13

They settle into a routine, more or less. Jack always wakes up before she does, spending his last few minutes in bed just watching her sleep, listening to the quiet steady thump of her heartbeat. After that, it’s a rush as they get ready, sharing a shower and bathroom mirror. Of course, she’s in restraints, but otherwise they’re almost like any other couple. Jack dries her off and brushes her teeth for her, and helps her get dressed. He wears his uniform, like he does every single day, but she gets to change it up a little. Most of the dresses are short and tight, picked because they show off her figure, and because they allow Jack easy access to the really important parts.

Living with PM has made him into an excellent multitasker, as he’s able to read the paper and feed both of them at the same time. It would be easier if he would take the restraints off and let her feed herself, but he doesn’t completely trust his reaction times his early in the morning, not when he’s usually incredibly tired. It’s just easier to keep her on a short leash until he feels awake enough to deal with her. And to be completely truthful, he likes having her depend on him.

He starts getting more lax at work, first having her sit on the desk, and then finally taking a risk and putting her underneath it. The reality doesn’t exactly match up to his fantasy, but it’s still pretty damn good, especially when he can just glance under the desk and see his cock in her mouth, and watch PM suck on him. It's sexually gratifying of course, but it's more than just that. It's also about control, the utter control he has over her, and what she's willing to do when he tells her to.

Jack's still a little dazed from his last orgasm, and PM's sucking on his soft cock when the guard comes in. He sets down a royal proclamation on the desk, not noticing who's beneath it, "Queen wants to see you."

The summons from the Queen is not entirely unexpected. Ever since the Dignitary let the reasons why slip, he’s kept on eye on the news, watching for any disasters. Just this morning, he saw footage from Prospit where two dozen people slated for execution were freed by their own jailers. And by now, his request to see the Parcel Mistress’ footage must have reached her, so there was a dual incentive for the Queen to call on Jack, "I'll be there in a moment. I know the way."

The guard nods and leaves, off to return to his own duties. Jack tucks himself back into his uniform and hauls PM along. Her mouth is so tender and pink looking, and from the sideways glances of other agents, it’s pretty clear to everyone what she’s been doing. Jack takes the long route, even though he knows he shouldn't leave the Queen waiting, just so show her off.

Her chambers are the same as ever, gold and purple, but the Queens aren’t in the parlour. Instead, Jack finds them in the bedroom, white and black bodies lying against the deep purple bedspread. He finds himself caught in the doorway, stopped dead by the sight of the Black Queen coming. Her voice is low and throaty, and it goes straight to his cock, breasts heaving and body arched up as the White Queen’s face is pressed tight against her cunt. A thousand semi-dormant fantasies come flooding to the forefront of his mind as he watches the Black Queen sag back down onto the bed, quivering ever so slightly. What he wouldn't give to be between her thighs right now.

“Jack,” She says and catches him off-guard. He didn’t even think she had noticed him standing in the door.

“Your Majesty,” He greets her, stepping into the bedroom. It’s nearly as large as his entire apartment. The Black Queen rises up on her elbows, and she’s completely naked. Jack lets himself have only the briefest of glances at her bare breasts before returning to her face, “How can we be of assistance.”

“Have a seat,” She tells him, and Jack takes a seat on the bench by the end of the bed. From where he’s sitting, he can see the White Queen perfectly, lying face down on the bedspread, knees dug in just enough to raise her bottom and show off her cunt. The Black Queen pushes the White Queen’s face away and slides to the edge of the bed, getting up. She grabs a bathrobe off of a hook by the bed and pulls it on, not bothering to cinch it shut. Her thighs are glistening wet, and Jack can't take his eyes off of them, no matter how he tries. She holds her hand out for the leash and Jack gives it to her, "Come along."

PM is tugged over to the bed and undressed most unceremoniously before being pushed down onto the mattress. The White Queen doesn't need any prompting. She pushes her face up and between PM's thighs, her destination clear to all. PM gasps softly when the White Queen starts to lick at her, and Jack just watches. The Queen sits beside him, crossing her legs and trying to look demure when all she looks is well-fucked.

It's quite a sight to watch the two Prospitarians in action. The White Queen has been trained and trained well, her tongue quickly and efficiently lapping at PM's clit. They both have their arms buckled behind their backs, though the White Queen's restraints are far more beautiful, and far more permanent than PM's. He keeps his eyes on them, and not on the nearly naked Queen beside him. He's already half-hard by the time PM starts to moan, the White Queen doing a spectacular job.

“Well, it’s certainly good to hear her making noises again,” The Black Queen says, uncrossing her legs. He can smell her cunt, sweet and musky, and still oh so wet from the White Queen’s attentions, “We had begun to suspect she had made herself mute.”

“I’ve been working on that,” Jack tells the Black Queen, wanting nothing so much as to push her down and force her thighs open, and to fuck her in full view of PM and the White Queen.

“You are to be commended,” She leans over into Jack's space and he feels his heart stutter a little as her breasts nearly brush up against his arm, "You know, I wasn't sure you could handle her. But you've done very well so far. I did see your request to gain access to her more secure files."

"Yes, your majesty," Jack says, mostly to remind himself that she is the fucking Queen and the enemy, even if she has been nice to him lately, "I was just curious. She doesn't talk about herself much."

"I imagine not. Do you know what we caught her trying to do in the Land of Cyclones and Bells?" One hand snakes around his waist, fingers pressing against his thigh. Jack's cock reacts just to her very presence, standing up at attention while she continues to talk to him, "She had broken into the office of an overseer and was stealing his records. That woman killed three guards while trying to escape."

He can imagine it easily. Jack doesn't even have to try. It just makes him harder to be honest. PM makes a sound, something that's caught between pleasure and pain and Jack's eyes lock onto her flushed face, "But they got her."

"Eventually," The Queen's fingertips touch the side of Jack's cock, just lightly glancing over it. Her breasts are pressed against his arm and he wants to just grab them with both hands, but he keeps looking straight ahead, staring at the White Queen's cunt as she makes PM moan like a whore, "They were rather rough on her before she arrived here, but even that wasn't enough to break her. Of course, that was before I got my hands on her."

Jack bites the inside of his cheek, desperately trying not to moan. The Black Queen moves and Jack finds himself pushed back until he's flush against the bench. She straddles Jack's legs and nothing prepares him for this, for her guiding his cock towards her cunt while her breasts sway in his face.

"She was still a sullen thing when she left, but we got rid of most of that fire. You'd be surprised how easy it is to break someone," The Queen keeps talking, even as she sinks down onto Jack. His mouth drops open, nowhere near prepared for how hot and wet her cunt is, even after sitting beside her. She presses her hands overtop her breasts, flicking her nipples as she starts to rock on Jack, "Mmm. We had to tie her to the bedposts at first to make her behave. But there's almost nothing a nice stiff cock can't fix."

For punctuation, she grinds down on Jack and he curses, head falling back, "Fuck. Oh fucking-" His hands grip her hips, and she doesn't seem to mind, though she doesn't pay them any attention.

"Oh yes, no wonder she's being a good girl if this is what you're giving her," The Queen teases him, and he wants to hate her, he really does, but he's balls-deep in her and it's hard to think about anything except how good she feels. He can't see PM and the White Queen but he hears PM's breathing start up, and those shocked soft noises she always makes just as she reaches a climax. The Queen just chuckles, rocking steadily on Jack, "Do you want to come inside of me?"

He almost does. It hits him so fucking hard in the groin that he has to dig his fingertips into his palms hard enough to almost crack the surface. But she hasn't given him permission, she's just asked what he wants. He grits his teeth until he's not so near the edge and spits out, "Yes. If. I can."

"I don't let anyone come inside of me," She tells him, rubbing her nipples, still riding him steadily, "Not even the King. He comes inside of her. I always have her spread out and waiting to receive his seed when he's close to coming. That's all she's good for, really. That and her tongue."

He barely suppresses the sneer. Oh that fucking bitch. It's not just enough to taunt him with something he can't have, or to be so fucking high and mighty that she thinks she's above having sex like normal people. No, she's also got to taunt him with images that just make it so much harder for him to stay in control. She smiles at him and drops her hands from her breasts, leaning in until they're right in his face.

"What's wrong Jack? Don't feel like talking?" She looks like a cat that's gotten into the cream, and she feels like fucking heaven, and all he wants to do is just tighten his grip on her hips and force her onto the floor and fuck her, just like he does with PM. But she's not PM. She's the Queen, and even though he's inside of her, she's the one fucking him. One hand wraps around the back of his head and pushing him towards her breasts, "Maybe if you ask me really, really nicely, I'll change my mind."

The last thing he wants to do is ask her for anything. But the thought of coming inside of her and watching it slowly drip out of her black cunt is something he's been dreaming of for fucking years. He knows she'll say no but. The chance that it might work out is worth it. He bites back his pride, "Please."

"A little bit louder," She grinds against him and Jack gasps, trying to keep it together. He's barely listening to PM moaning in the background.

"Please," He begs, actually begs his time, "I want to come inside of you. Please let me. For fuck's sake, please-"

She laughs, and gets off of him, ignoring the frustrated whining sound Jack makes as his length slips out of her cunt. He tries to hold onto her hips, but she just slaps his hands away, kneeling in front of him, "It wasn't enough. But it was a start, so I'll give you a bit of a reward."

The Queen presses her hands to her breasts and pushes them together around Jack's cock, trapping him tightly between them. His hips jerk up into her tits, and she doesn't even try to stop him. It doesn't take much, just four or five thrusts, and he comes harder than he has in an age. His semen splatters across her breasts and Jack sags back against he bench, gasping for air. He'll never forget this: the Queen with his cum on her, the head of his cock sticking out between her breasts.

She lets go of her breasts and drags her fingers in the cum, coming away with a white glob on the end of her fingers. For one glorious moment, he thinks she might be about to pop it into her mouth. But instead, she reached up and shoves it into Jack's open, panting mouth. He sputters, getting a taste of himself, and she just smiles, "Jack, really. Have some dignity."

He coughs but doesn't do much, still feeling like jelly. The Queen stands and approaches the bed. PM is thrashing around, face red with stress from the White Queen continually licking her. The Black Queen simply pulls her out of the way and takes her place, putting the White Queen to work on her cunt.

And while Jack composes himself, he watches the Black Queen push PM's face against her breasts, "Clean them up," She tells PM. PM does it without question, tongue flicking out and lapping up Jack's cum. The Queen looks at Jack, propped up on her elbows, her robe barely clinging to her form, "I’ll have the footage released and sent to your office tomorrow. Do try to keep it under wraps.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” He manages to say, getting to his feet. Jack hates how much he wants her in this moment. She must know, because she smiles at him. Once her chest is clean, she pushes PM away. Jack grabs onto PM’s leash and tugs her after him, pausing only to get her dress back onto her. She’s nearly as unsteady on her feet as he is, and they nearly lean against one another as they leave.

They pass by the guards as they leave the royal chambers and slowly make their way down the wide stairs. They haven’t gotten more than fifteen feet when PM speaks softly, her voice shaking, “I hate her.”

Jack puts an arm around her waist, “Me too doll, me too.”


	14. Chapter 14

The footage shows up the next morning in his office, but Jack doesn't have time to watch it. He's woken up at four in the morning by another messenger with yet more bad news: the Armoury on the moon's been blown up. It's a fucking disaster, and this time there are casualties.

It's a black eye for the Derse government, especially when the Armoury was guarded better than any other building on all of Derse. But once again, someone simply walked in with the bombs, planted them and left. Reviewing the security footage is useless: the bombs were constructed and planted within the building, using materials that were already inside or had been smuggled inside clothes. They get a bit of footage of one bomb being planted in the lobby, and of the Dersite doing it. It's a soldier-class Dersite, and a quick run through the database reveals that it's the Warweary Villein, the very man responsible for the rebellion on the Battlefield. A manhunt is silently ordered to track him down, find him, and execute him.

They blame it on Prospitarians again, but it's getting harder to explain how they're able to accomplish so much when they can't move freely in public. There's also a public lynching in the south of the Capital when they catch a Dersite out for a walk with his slave. Most of the mob escapes unharmed, but a few of the more identifiable members are arrested for their part. No one's put to death, since she just a whore, but she was the Minister of the Art's whore, and there does need to be some sort of retribution. A few weeks in jail is what's settled on in the end, but nobody seems very happy about it.

Jack watches the footage of the Prospitarian swinging from the lamp post and feels a quiet cold fear grow in the pit of his stomach. PM is at home right now, still chained in the bedroom and hopefully safely sleeping. The thought of seeing her hanging there is-

He can't think about it. Jack simply can't.

It's not until mid-afternoon, after the worst of the paperwork has been handled and the official statement has been issued, does he let himself go through the extra footage. Jack makes sure he's got no appointments and no one to interrupt him as he brings up the images. After all, if it's very good, he may end up rubbing one out under his desk.

The photos aren't too noteworthy. Again, there's none of her smiling, just the usual grim look on her face. One is a security photo of the Parcel Mistress taken on the Land of Cyclone and Bells. She's standing outside of the prisoner barracks. The note on the photo says this was the only clear shot of her face while she broke the lock on the barracks and helped aid an escape attempt.

The second photo features her naked and standing in front of a wall somewhere in Derse. She's a mess. It must be after she broke into the Overseer's office. Jack's a bit taken aback by how bruised and cut-up she looks. She's staring into the camera with defiance.

He puts on the first video clip, settling a hand in his lap.

The footage is from the office. A window open in the south, and he watches as PM crawls in through it. He's never seen her move before, not really, and he's a bit shocked as how quick she is. She rifles through filing cabinets and stacks of records, picking and choose, and stacking up huge pile on the desk. He watches fascinated as she silently pours lighter fluid over the stack and sets it on fire. Jack's a bit hard, just watching her work. She goes out through the south window and the video ends.

He watches it again immediately, just to see her move about once more. Jack strokes himself under his desk, watching her willingly destroy records that aren't hers to touch or move. It's stupid how excited he's getting. When the clip comes to an end, he prepares himself for the main course and puts on the second video.

It's outside the office, a great high angle that shows everything. She comes out of the window, and is quickly met by guards. He watches as PM pretends to surrender to them, but grabs a sword from one's belt instead and begins to fight them off. She's beautiful and fierce, and the muffled sounds of fighting are loud in his office. PM stabs one through the chest and beheads another, and slices the arms off of third. But there are four other officers, and one smashes the sword out of her hand, and the others take her down onto the ground. Jack squeezes himself in anticipation.

They tie her hands behind her back, and Jack watches as they rip her uniform off. The first guard forces her thighs open. She screams. It's a quiet sound, all the audio muffled, but it hits Jack and not in the way he thought. The hand on his cock doesn't feel so good anymore. She screams again as the guard forces himself on her, and she fights, even as they rape her.

His hand falls away. Jack watches with a growing horror as she fights and struggles, as they keep her pinned to the ground and one by one hurt her. They punch her and bloody her face, and she keeps screaming for someone to help her. He has to end the video when she starts to cry, and the sound hits him in the chest like a sledgehammer.

The Fenestrated Walls go dark as the video ends. Jack just sits at his desk, not able to put what he's feeling into words. That wasn't what he expected at all. And yet.

And yet, what the hell had he expected? It wasn't like he'd been under the impression that she hadn't been, well, raped. That's what he had expected to see on the tape. He just.

He just hadn't expected it to actually affect him.

Jack blows off work early. He's still feeling weirdly nauseous from the footage. Instead of going straight home, he runs a few errands first, getting groceries and buying another book of poetry for PM. He drags his feet, and by the time he arrives home, it's getting late.

He sets the groceries on the table and heads into the bedroom, "Doll, I got some fruit for you-"

Jack stops dead in the doorway. She's half sprawled out on the floor by the bed. Her collar's hooked onto the bedside table, the chain caught in one of the ornamental spikes. There's water on the floor and the broken water glass lying everywhere, and she's softly choking as the chain keeps her from being able to sit or get free, her body propped awkwardly upwards. Her legs are shaking with the effort and her face is red, and all Jack can think about is that Prospitarian hanging from the streetlamp.

PM gasps out, "h-help-" and the spell breaks. Jack pays no attention to the glass on the floor, getting his arms under PM and holding her up as he yanks the chain off the ornamental spike. It's caught on there hard, and no amount of tugging seems to be able to get it free. It takes him a moment to accept that this isn't working, and he feels like an idiot when he finally undoes the chain from the collar. She sags in his arms the moment she's free, gasping for air.

"What the fuck were you doing?!" Jack demands, hugging her close. He can't stop the panic in his voice, "What the fuck?!"

"w-water," She tries to say, "i-it. Slipped. Tried to-" And she coughs again. Her face is so red, and there are tear tracks on it. It's obvious what happened now: she tried to get a drink, it slipped, she tried to catch it, and instead she ended up hung up on the bedside table. He doesn't want to think about how long she hung there while he was out getting fucking groceries, avoiding coming home. If he'd wasted more time, he could have killed her.

"Oh fuck," He says and helps her off the floor. They stagger out of the bedroom and into the living room. She looks awful, and all he can think about is the video, and her crying, and the pale face of the lynched Prospitarian. He gets her settled on the couch and can't stop touching her face, trying desperately to soothe her, "I'm so sorry doll, I'm so fucking sorry."

She just coughs and leans against him. He holds her tightly, rocking her back and forth a bit. It's only as her panicked breathing starts to slow that the rest of the floor floods back in, and Jack realizes that his feet are hurting. A quick glance at the floor reveals bloody footprints coming out of the bedroom. He stepped in the glass and didn't even notice.

"Fuck," He mutters again, and kisses her forehead, "Don't scare me like this doll. I can't come back here and find you dead."

Her breath hitches in her chest and Jack just keeps kissing her face, not wanting to think about what could have been.


	15. Chapter 15

The Dignitary shows up late for band practice, and Jack and the Brute end up just shooting the shit while Droll plays with PM. From what Jack can tell, they’re playing some variation of hide-go-seek, only the seeker has to keep their eyes closed when they go looking for the finder.

So far, Droll has been the seeker for a solid ten minutes as he stumbles around the room with his eyes shut, stubby little arms stuck out of his side, and PM just walks circles around him, always keeping just out of his grasp.

“-so then the Queen’s just begging me to fuck her,” Jack tells the Brute, “And how am I supposed to resist that?”

“You’re a lucky bastard,” The Brute sounds impressed, taking a swig of beer, “Yer own slave and the Queen?”

“Well keep the Queen thing quiet. I don’t know if her husband knows or not, and I don’t want to end up a dead bastard,” Slick adds. He’s actually less worried about the King hearing and more worried about the bitch. There’s no way she wouldn’t punish him for this somehow.

“No problem boss,” Brute makes the zipping gesture. Right then, Droll runs into a wall and they stop to glance at him and make sure he’s fine. He staggers back, eyes still closed.

PM stops, taking a look at him, and Droll just springs at her, grabbing onto her leg, “Got you!!” It’s a wonder that PM doesn’t kick him into the wall, but she manages not to. Droll opens his eyes and gestures to her, “Close them and count to twenty! Do it!”

She does it, and Droll runs off giggling softly. Jack takes a sip of his own beer, “This is just sad.”

“Ah, let ‘em have their fun,” Brute puts an arm over Jack’s shoulders, watching at PM begins to cautiously cross the floor with her eyes closed, “And speakin’ of fun-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Maybe tomorrow, if nothing happens,” Jack didn’t really want to have the Brute over, but he’d made a promise. And PM didn’t like the Brute the way she liked Dignitary, so that was alright.

“You’re a good friend,” Brute says, and Jack feels part of him deep inside twinge. Yeah. He’s a real good friend.

The door finally opens and the Dignitary comes in, carrying his saxophone case. Jack grouses, because if he doesn’t, it’ll seem weird, “You’re fucking late.”

“Doesn’t matter, we’ve got all the time we want to practice tonight,” Dignitary says, setting his case down, “I’m leaving for the Land of Mountains and Poppies tomorrow.”

“What?” Brute’s shocked, and even PM stops to look over at him, opening up her eyes and ignoring Deuce whining about her cheating, “How’d the hell did that happen?”

“Don’t know. I got the summons today. They need an administrator and my number must have been drawn,” Dignitary glanced at Jack, “Did you put my name in?”

“I didn’t know they were even looking for an administrator,” Jack lies through his teeth. He didn’t just put the Dignitary’s name in, he also pulled strings to get everyone else’s names out, “Fuck, what’s going to happen with the band?”

“I get the promotion of a lifetime and you’re worried about the band,” Dignitary deadpans, “I’m glad your priorities are straight.”

“Fuck off,” Jack snipes back. Inside, he’s ecstatic. This is going to solve the rest of his problems. With the Dignitary gone, Jack’s going to have PM all to himself, and there won’t be anybody to draw her attention away from him. When she gets wet, he’s going to know that it was because of him.

“We should celebrate!” Brute grabs onto Dignitary with his free arm, yanking him against his side. He and Jack just exchange weary looks, but the Brute easily ignores them, “How about we go out drinking?”

It’s not an entirely bad idea. At least, not at first anyway. They go to this bar downtown that they’ve always enjoyed going to. It's better than spending the whole night practising for a gig they're never going to play. PM’s the only Prospitarian in the place, but nobody bothers her, not when she’s on a leash and the Brute and Jack keep her within arm's reach. They get plenty of drinks, and Jack even orders a few for PM, who drinks them without any real complaint.

The bad idea only comes in affect after they go back to Jack’s apartment for a little more drinking. He hooks PM up to her collar and frees her arms, and puts on a few records, and while he’s handing out beer to everyone, Brute asks, “Can she dance?”

“Don’t know, I’ve never had her do that,” Jack flops in his chair and looks at PM, “Can you dance? Fuck it, I don’t care if you can or not. Just do it.”

She stands there awkwardly for a moment before starting to dance. PM’s not very good at it, but considering how drunk they are, she’s good enough. Brute hollers as she attempts to shake her hips and the Dignitary has to grab onto Droll’s uniform to keep him from joining in. Jack just sits back and watches, feeling pretty good.

Nothing really changes until she puts her hands on her dress and starts sliding it down, and then he sits up. He didn’t tell her to do this, and he’s never seen PM ever do anything sexual if he didn’t order her to. But here she is, slowly working it down her body until her breasts peek out over the top. She casts a coy look at them, and the Brute whistles lowly, just watching her as she slowly undresses.

She turns away from them as she works the dress over her hips and the curve of her ass, finally letting it drop on the floor. PM steps out of her dress and bends over, the chain clattering on the floor. From this angle, they can see her cunt, and there’s no sound from any of them. She glances back at them before straightening up and turning around. PM starts to dance again, and Jack licks his lips, just watching her move. She brings her hands up to her breasts, cupping them as she sways her hips, and then slides one hand slowly down her stomach.

"I thought you said she'd never done this before," The Dignitary says, and goes quiet as she slides two fingers into her cunt, clearly touching her clit. Her eyes close and Jack just stares at her, one hand on her breast, the other between her thighs.

He finally speaks, trying to ignore the way his uniform is tenting, "Not with me. She had a 'friend'. Or two."

For a moment, he thinks she's about to speak, and he feels his guts start to turn. But she just flashes her eyes at him and keeps playing with herself. Jack feels relief. She's only going to talk to him.

They watch for a while, sipping their drinks and just staring. Deuce shifts around awkwardly, clearly not understanding what's happening, but knowing enough to stay quiet if they others are. The Brute puts a hand in his lap and squeezes his cock, and Jack can't help it, he does the same. The Dignitary doesn't touch himself, but it's clear to all that he's just as hard.

PM pulls her fingers out of her cunt and they shine in the lamplight. She walks towards them, chain slinking over the ground behind her, and she offers her fingers to the Dignitary. Jack feels nothing but an intense burning jealousy as the Dignitary takes her fingers and slides them into his mouth. They come out clean, and the Dignitary licks his lips, "She tastes good."

"Yeah," Jack agrees, voice hoarse, "Yeah, she does."

"How about I get my going-away present first," Droog motions to his lap, and PM straddles him. Jack can't take his eyes off the pair, watching as she pushes his uniform up and settles her cunt just overtop his hard black shaft. The Dignitary keeps his hands on the back of the couch, even as she starts to sink down on top of it. She sets her arms on either side of him and just stays on his cock for a while, barely moving at all.

"What is she doing?" The Droll asks Brute, and gets shushed. Brute's got his hand right under his uniform, stroking himself, but Jack's forgotten all about touching himself, too busy staring at PM as she begins to slowly rock down on to Dignitary. The Dignitary doesn't seem to notice, eyes raking over her breasts and face, and down to her cunt spread out over his cock.

"How's she feel?" Brute asks, fisting his dick and watching PM as she fucks herself on the Dignitary's cock. Jack balls his hands into fists, twitching with every downward motion from her body.

"Pretty good," He says, taking a sip of his beer. His eyes flick over to Jack, and the son of a bitch gives him a bit of a smile, "You were right to pick her. The kitchen girl had bigger tits, but this one's a lot more fun."

"Yeah," Jack barely manages to say the word. He reminds himself that the Dignitary will be gone tomorrow, off to the Land of fucking Mountains and Poppies and as much prospitarian pussy as he can stand, and that whatever PM's doing won't mean anything because she's his, now and forever. But it still eats at him, even as she starts to rock down faster.

"Come here," Dignitary tells her, slipping a few fingers into her collar and pulling her in close. He tries to kiss her, but she turns her face away. Dignitary lets go of her collar, leaning back, "You need to work on her attitude."

Jack pulls himself out of his chair and walks over, getting right into the Dignitary's space as he comes close to her. PM doesn't pull away from Jack's mouth, and she actually kisses back a little, her mouth just barely moving against his. The building rage in Jack deflates, just a little, and he pulls back, grinning at the Dignitary, "Nah. I think we're good."

Droll cautiously crawls around the Brute, approaching PM, "Can I kiss her?"

"In a sec," Dignitary says, turning to look at PM, "On your knees."

She slides off of his cock and kneels in front of the Dignitary, just putting her mouth over him without any hesitation. Jack finally touches himself, rubbing his cock through his uniform as she sucks on the Dignitary. Dignitary doesn't touch her, not even as he gets close. He doesn't warn her either, and she almost chokes when he comes in her mouth.

She goes to swallow and Dignitary grabs her by the cheeks, pinching her mouth, "Just hold that. Droll, you can kiss her now."

Droll, the dumb fuck, just leans in for a kiss, and PM is pushed in to meet his mouth. The little guy gives her an open-mouth kiss, pulling back after a moment and knotting his face with disgust. The Dignitary has a good chuckle, and even Jack laughs a little at Deuce's sad little "bluh".

"Give 'er here," Brute says, and before anyone can move, PM's already shuffling over, wrapping one hand around the back of his cock and taking over for him. She licks the head with quick simple motions, making the Brute groan with relief, "Fuck, Jack, you lucky son of a bitch. You too Dignitary."

It doesn't take long, not with her hand on the Brute's cock. She gets her mouth over the head of his cock, just sucking on it steadily and staring up at the Brute. Jack's so hard, and squeezing his dick isn't getting him any satisfaction. He wants her, he wants to be buried as deep inside her as he possibly can be. He wants them to watch as Jack fucks her and comes inside of her, and marks his territory for everyone to see. But for the moment, he's willing to watch her get the Brute off. He groans when he comes, thrusting up into her mouth, and she actually manages to catch most of it, a few trickles running down the corners of her mouth.

"You made a mess," Droll tells her, leaning against the Dignitary.

PM wipes off her mouth and starts to crawl over to Jack. But he shakes his head, "Take care of the Droll."

"Me?" Droll looks at her, "What's she doing?"

The Dignitary chuckles, "She's going to play a new game with you. Get your uniform up."

"Okay..." Droll tugs it up. PM glances at Jack again, her eyes blank, and then crawls in front of the Droll. She puts her hands underneath him and holds him still as she brings her mouth forward, and then slides over him, "What are you doi- OH!"

"Aw look at her go," Brute pants out, still trying to catch his breath. PM's mouth is completely over the Droll's cock, and his tiny hands have gripped her head, squeezing it tight with shock. He can't get away with her hands on him, and Jack laughs at the face the Droll makes, shocked ecstasy covering his overly expressive features, "You like it?"

"It's. Oh," Droll can't even put the words together, his face starting to heat up. His squeezes his eyes together as PM starts to bob her head up and down. It's more funny than hot, but there's something about the Droll's face that makes it less funny, the way he bites his lip and whines softly, "Dignitary-"

"Just enjoy it," The Dignitary tells him, finishing his beer, "Push into her mouth. It'll feel better."

Droll does as he's told, gasping as his hips thrust forward. He does it again and again, and Jack watches with amazement as he actually starts to fuck her mouth. PM keeps her mouth still and open around Droll's cock, letting him thrust into it, "That's it," The Brute encourages him, "Yeah, that'a boy."

He makes it longer than Jack would have thought possible. The Droll's hands eventually tighten on her head, and he makes a soft whining noise as his hips thrust mindlessly into her mouth. She swallows it down, and Jack bites the inside of his cheek when she draws back from the Droll, carefully wiping away what little she didn't catch.

She stands and walks to Jack, just kneeling in his chair and pushing his uniform up. It takes all his willpower not to come the moment she touches him, or when she slowly slides herself down his shaft. PM's so fucking hot and wet, but best of all, the best fucking part, she's doing this of her own free will. She wants it. She wants him. PM squirms down on him, mouth opening as she softly says, "Jack."

That's it. That's all. Jack fucking loses it. He comes inside of her, not thrusting or fucking her, just slid tight within her cunt. She just stays there, even after he's stopped spasming, even after he's filled her up with cum and he starts to soften. PM stays on his cock, as if she's little more than something to keep it warm.

"Hell of a going away party," The Dignitary says, setting his empty beer bottle on the ground beside the couch, "I might actually miss you assholes."

"Aw, 'course you will," Brute grins, lifting his bottle in a toast, "To the Dignitary. May he make the best damn administrator they've ever seen."

Droll doesn't have a bottle, and he's still too shocked by his orgasm to do a thing. But Jack manages to raise his bottle, silently toasting the Dignitary. His free hand settles on PM's hip and he strokes her with his thumb, "To the Dignitary."

He and Brute silently drink and PM simply stays on his lap, holding his cock safely within her.


	16. Chapter 16

She’s still sleeping when Jack gets up and stumbles to the bathroom, head pounding ever so slightly. Jack skips the shower, just splashing some water on his face, and then heading out into the living room.

The Brute is still asleep on the couch, Droll sleeping soundly on his chest, but the Dignitary is gone. The living room is still a mess from last night and Jack blearily looks over it before walking back into the bedroom. He crawls back into bed, curling up against PM and closing his eyes again.

“Jack,” She whispers, and he groans as he opens his eyes again, looking up at her. PM looks a bit pale, “My arms really hurt…”

“Fuck.” He gets off of her and motions for her to turn over. She does, and he winces when he sees the mess he made of trying to buckle her arms up last night. Its way too tight, and the buckles are digging into all the wrong places. He gets it off of her and drops the restraints on the floor. She turns back over and stretches out her arms, and Jack just drops his head onto her chest, too tired to buckle her back in. If she tries anything dumb, the Brute’s just in the living room.

But she doesn’t. After stretching them out, she eventually just drops them on the bed. Jack takes a peek up at her. She’s not nearly as hung over as he is, though she still looks fairly tired. He thinks about last night, and snorts a little. Of course she’s tired. They certainly put her through her paces.

For a moment, Jack almost wishes he hadn’t gotten the Dignitary sent away. But only for a moment. He’s not stupid after all.

Jack kisses one breast, “Mm. You were so good last night doll," He starts to move his mouth downwards, mapping out the curves and planes of her body. Jack settles his lips on the lowest point of her stomach, pausing momentarily. He's never gone down on her. He's never had to. You don't have to go down on slaves. They do what you want.

But he wants to. Jack doesn't think about it too deeply. He just keeps moving his mouth down, pressing her thighs open as he kisses the lips of her cunt, and then slides his tongue inside. She gives a small little gasp of surprise as his tongue finds her clit and begins to stroke it.

His eyes peek just over the top of her hips, watching her body move. PM's hands are free, and she smooths them over the sheets. He keeps slowly working away at her, watching as her body slowly goes pink. They didn't get her off last night, even after all the good things she did, and he feels almost sort of bad about that. But he's fixing it now, isn't he?

She makes wonderful little sounds, and his hands stroke the outsides of her thighs as his mouth strokes the insides. PM has a sort of sweet smell to her, dark and musky, and he wants to bottle it up so he can smell it whenever he wants. His swirls his tongue around her clit, rewarded with a few more sounds, and her hands balling up in the sheet. He can't quite see her face, but he can see parts of his, like the way her mouth opens and closes with each tiny moan, and the way she turns it to one side and another as eats her out.

Jack laps at her, tasting as she grows steadily wetter. It's all for him, all because of him, and he thrills softly. God he loves her like this, so fucking pliant and willing and gorgeous. Jack could spend all day between her thighs, listening to her moan so prettily. He speeds up the strokes of his tongue, driving her steadily towards an orgasm.

His eyes stay fixed on her as she finally comes, arching up so slightly as her breathing gets fevered. The soft ah-ah-ah noises stay in his brain, lodging there and refusing to be budged. She collapses on the bed, thighs still softly quivering around his head. He licks her clean before crawling back up to her. PM reaches up and places a trembling hand on his face, and she kisses him sweetly. And for a moment, he forgets that she's not a girlfriend.

But he remembers all too quickly when his hands go to her face, and brush up against the collar on her neck. Jack stops, his fingers stuck on the collar like they're magnets. She's not his girlfriend. She's not here because she likes him. She's here because she has to be, because he has her chained in his bedroom.

Jack draws back and sits up. PM looks at him curiously but doesn't say a word. He quickly dresses and simply leaves her in bed, heading out into the main room.

He wakes the Brute and Droll up, "Come on you assholes, get up and get out," Jack says, giving them both a solid shake, "This isn't a fucking hotel."

Brute cracks an eye open and sits up, barely catching the still-sleeping Droll, "Hm? Hey, where's Dignitary?"

"Probably caught his shuttle," Jack backs off as the Brute stands up, carrying the Droll in one arm. The Droll sleeps easily, clearly not noticing or caring if he's being carried around like a doll, "And you've got guard duty soon enough. Get fucking moving before you have to tell them why you're really late."

"Yeah, it was nice to see you too," The Brute grins, pausing in the doorway as he leaves, "And Jack? Got something on your face."

Jack touches his face, realizing that it's still slick from PM. Brute laughs and leaves, shutting the door soundly behind him. Jack doesn't laugh. He looks at his wet fingers and glances back into the bedroom, wondering when the fuck everything changed.


	17. Chapter 17

Things are strange over the next week. Jack tries to pretend they're not, but more and more, it becomes clear that he can't.

He finds it hard to have sex with her. Even when he's encouraging her to enjoy it, to do some of the work for him, there's part of him that's all too aware that she's only doing it because he's making her. He can just tell in the way she holds herself so stiffly, even as she's moving. It's not like the night with his friends, not like the morning after when she was so soft and willing by the morning light. He tries goes down on her again, and he can't even manage to finish her off.

She's only here because she has to be. PM doesn't really want him, doesn't really care about him. She only does things when he tells her to.

It eats at him, and at everything they do together. He's suddenly aware of how uncomfortable she is in her short dresses, how she looks at the ground when they walk together in public, how ashamed and embarrassed she must be every second of every day. The security tapes haunt him when they eat dinner, and he thinks about her crying and can barely stand to take another bite of food.

Every day, it gets worse. His slack job isn't so slack anymore. There's a constant flood of paperwork as trouble happens all over Derse. The Queen is pissed, and Jack gets a few transmissions from her, demanding that he fix these problems. There's not much he can do about it. The executions happen regularly, isn't that enough? Of course, the right people aren't being executed. They've been searching for the Warweary Villein for ages now, and all they've gotten for their troubles are a few videos of the bastard sneaking about, but nothing worthwhile, nothing they can actually execute.

The long hours aren't doing him any favours. He's more snappish, and every time she flinches from his words, it's like she's cutting him. When the hell did things get like this? Or were they always this way, and he just couldn't see it? More and more, it's becoming clear that the answer is the second choice, not the first.

He's never had any reason to be guilty before, but now, he does. She's only here because she's chained and leashed. He may be the kindest master she's had so far, he may have treated her the best out of all of them, but he's still just a master, and she's still his slave. And Jack doesn't want to be her master anymore.

Sometime, when he wasn't paying attention, he fell in love with her.

He's never been the sort of man to plan out much. The most effort he put into getting rid of the Dignitary was calling in a few favours from his desk one afternoon. When he makes up his mind what to do with PM, it's mostly the same, placing a single call to book passage on a ship, and a few purchases on their way home. Like usual, she pays no attention to what he does at all, eyes on the floor every step of the way.

They eat dinner together, and Jack plays that song for her. Neither of them sing, and he just plays it over and over. He thought it was a cheery song at first, but the more he plays it, the sadder it gets. But he plays it, because it's the only thing he knows she likes for sure, and he wants tonight to be a good night.

It's only as darkness falls that he makes his move. She's chained in the living room, sitting on the couch, and Jack sits beside her, "Doll, I want you to tell me. Just one thing. I wasn't so bad, was I? Compared to all the others?"

She looks at him, and suddenly Jack doesn't want to know the answer. He just takes her face in his hands, kissing her on the mouth frantically. Jack knows she must be confused, but he can't explain it. This is the last time he'll see her, maybe his last night alive when they find out what he's done.

He presses his forehead against hers when he pulls away to breathe, "I love you. I love you so damn much, doll."

And then, he slips the key off of his neck and undoes her collar. The lock clicks as he turns it, and the metal creaks as he opens it up, sliding it off her neck. He throws it on the ground, leaving her bare and free. If she wants to, she can attack him now. If she does, Jack just might let her.

He stands up, quickly hurrying to the counter. He grabs the supplies he bought today, some food, clothes, a disguise, and brings them over to where she's sitting on the couch, shoving them into her hands "Get dressed. Take the long way to the docks. There's a ship there headed to the Land of Thicket and Mist. If you can get off there, you can disappear into the thicket and no one will ever find you."

She stares down at them and then at him, as if she's waiting to see if he's testing her. Jack just presses his forehead against hers again, and then backs away, heading to his room. He stays there, sitting on his bed and just listening. Jack hears nothing at first, and then the soft sound of someone getting dressed. It's only when the door slams that he realizes that she's gone, really gone, and he puts his face in his hands.

And then he just waits.

A few hours pass as Jack sits in his room, waiting for the inevitable moment the police break down his door. It's dark out, but he worries all the same, worries that maybe she won't make it to the docks, that maybe someone will see her in her disguise and think there's something suspicious about her. Maybe she'll be arrested, or worse, and his stomach knots.

He's not surprised when there's a knock at his door, he's only a bit shocked at how early it is. Jack gets to his feet, grabbing his switchblade and snapping it open. He's not going down without a fight. Jack opens his door, hand slightly held behind his back as he looks for his first target. He gets a glimpse of robes before there's someone in his arms. Only the ever so familiar press of her body keeps him from automatically stabbing her in the side.

It's PM in her disguise. He barely recognizes her with the hood and dark mask on, but he knows her body anywhere. Jack puts his hands around her, overwhelmed. She came back. Why did she come back?

He has to let go of her to shut the door and lock it tight. The switchblade ends up on the table by the door, and she pushes the hood off her head and pulls away her mask, revealing her white face. Before he can demand to know why she's back, she grabs hold of him and pushes Jack against the door, kissing him passionately on the mouth.

Jack's heart leaps in his chest. He grabs on tightly to her cloak, onto her, and kisses back with a relief that he can't put into words. She came back to him because she loves him too. PM loves him.

"Doll," He whispers when they break to breathe, and she pulls him away from the door, pushing him back to the bedroom. They shed their clothes on the way, Jack desperately tasting and touching every inch of pale white carapace, feeling like laughing madly as she does the same with him.

She pushes him down on the bed, pulling off the last remains of the layered cloak, and straddles Jack. He's hard, harder than he's been in fucking weeks, and she easily slides onto his cock, rolling her hips. Jack grabs onto her sides, just holding on tight as she fucks herself onto him. She's gorgeous, and he can't get over how beautiful she is in this moment, breasts heaving as she rocks down on him, panting so softly.

"Jack," She moans, and his fingers tighten, "Oh Jack."

"Love you, love you so fucking much doll," He confesses, pressing his face against her breasts and kissing them, flicking his tongue across her nipples, "I do anything for you, anything."

"Look at me," She says and he looks. Their pace is frantic and swift, and what he can't get over is her bare neck, the place that's always been covered by a collar. He slides his hand up, wrapping it around her throat, and then sliding it down. She shudders softly, and he presses the hand to her breasts, "Don't put it back on me. I want to be free."

"Never, not while you're in here," He promises, willing to swear anything in this moment, "Fuck, doll-"

"PM," She says, and grinds her hips.

"Fuck, PM, oh fuck, love you," He can't stop gushing. She shoves his back down onto the bed, her hands keeping his back pinned there as she continues to rock against him. It's so fucking good, and he tries desperately to hold on, "You're going to make me come-"

"Wait," PM tells him, and he can see the flush high in her cheeks, "I'm almost there too."

He squeezes her breast and manages to hold out just a little while longer, long enough that he feels her thighs tighten around him and sees her bite her lower lip. She ruts down against his cock, and as her mouth opens up, he comes, and feels her come with him. The back of his head digs into the bed as his body strains, his eyes barely staying open to watch her lithe body writhe against him. She finally sags forward and he barely catches her, rolling to the side so they're both lying on the bed.

Jack clumsily kisses her, pressing his lips to hers and moving them across her face, "Fuck, PM. You came back to me. You came back."

She nods and doesn't say a word, wrapping her arms around him. Jack doesn't care. He knows the truth now and that's all that matters: she came back because she loves him.


	18. Chapter 18

Jack's the happiest he's ever been in his entire life. It's an odd thing, being happy, instead of constantly filled with unending rage. Of course, he still gets angry. He's got to contend with his dumbfuck subordinates, and the late-night call outs as yet another emergency happens, and the news from the colonies is all bad these days. But he doesn't let those things bother him.

Because he's got PM.

Things are so fucking good, he doesn't even have the words for it. He falls asleep in her arms, knowing that she'll still be there when he wakes up the next morning. They make dinner together and eat at the table, Jack still feeding her bites with his fork because old habits die hard. He teaches her to play basic chords on the piano, and they listen to records together and screw on the couch until he thinks he's going to die from the sheer bliss of everything.

He's had girlfriends in the past, but it was never like this with them. This is perfect. They never fight over useless shit, and PM's always in the mood, and always willing to do what he wants. All she ever asks in return is for Jack to leave her uncollared and uncuffed while in the house, and to sometimes leave her at home during the day. It's wonderful. She's wonderful.

At first he's reluctant to leave her alone at home. He can't help it. Just because she came back one night doesn't mean that she won't have second thoughts. But when he waffled, she just kissed him and said, "You need to trust me. I came back."

She was there when he came home, and even better, she'd even made dinner all by herself. He was barely in the door when she lead him over to the table and sat him down in front of a fresh cooked meal, and then coyly got down onto her knees and blew him at the kitchen table. The next night was the same, and the night after that, until Jack got used to coming home to food and the best damn blowjobs he'd ever gotten from anyone. And she deserves something, so he decides to get it.

The smell of freshly cooked rations fills his apartment when he walks in the door, carrying his parcels close to his chest. She's standing in the kitchen, as she usually is, wearing one of the too-short dresses. The dresses look even odder on her lately, pulling strangely in the front, but Jack's not sure what's happening there. All thoughts about how the dress looks go out of his head and she looks at him, "Hi Jack."

"Hey doll," He shuts the door behind him and carries the parcels over, "I've got a surprise for you!"

"For me?" She looks shocked, and Jack feels like a king, setting the boxes down on the table. PM carefully runs her hands along the edges of the boxes, "Can I?"

"Start with the big one," He tells her, picking up the smaller box. PM plays with the ribbon holding it shut and then tugs it open. She pulls the lid off, and he watches as she pulls the dress up and holds it out. It's long and gold, and it brushes against the floor, "What do you think?"

"Jack, it's beautiful," She smiles at him, and then turns around, "Could you get my zipper?"

"Sure thing," He unzips her, taking a moment to kiss the back of her neck. She shivers so nicely, and then squirms out of the black dress, pulling the gold on. It's such a nice thing, long and lovely, and he happily zips her into it, "Look at how fucking gorgeous you are."

"This is wonderful, thank you," She does a little spin, the dress swaying and then falling right back into place.

"If you think that's wonderful, wait until you see this. Look what I got you, " Jack opens the smaller box, showing her the necklace. PM stares at it, eyes wide with shock, and he keeps talking about it, “Isn’t it gorgeous? They pulled it out of the tower on Prospit. It was supposed to go into storage and get put up in a museum somewhere, but I pulled a few strings.”

Her eyes are wide and her voice is oddly toneless when she speaks, and barely above a whisper, “That’s the Queen’s necklace."

“No shit?” Jack glances at it and laughs, delighted. Here he was worried he’d wasted his favour on something fake. He takes the necklace out and puts it around PM’s neck, doing it up at the back. It’s wonderful; three thick strands of pure white pearls that make her neck look gorgeous.

He gets her in front of the bathroom mirror so she can see what she looks like with them on. Jack just watches her face as she cycles between shock and stunned amazement. He curves his hands around her waist, fingers slowly sinking south, “How about next time we see the Queens, you wear that and see if she recognizes it too?”

For a second, just a second, her jaw tightens, and then she turns around, smiling down at him, "Jack, you're so good to me."

"Nothing more than you deserve," He assures her, then pauses. There's been something he's been meaning to ask her for ages, something that's bothered him slightly since the night she came back, "Why'd you try to escape the one night? You knew there wasn't any way off of Derse or anybody to go to. So why'd you do something so dumb like that?"

PM turns back to look in the mirror, running a hand down the fabric, "There were executions scheduled for the next day. I knew some of those men. I wanted to set them free," and her hand trembles ever so slightly.

"Aw fuck, and then I went and made you watch," Jack feels somewhat awful, but not actually all that awful. It had knocked some sense into her, and it wasn't like Jack could afford to let her set free a couple of dumbfucks who got captured, "You'll never go to another execution again doll, I promise."

She says nothing at all, just looks at him in the mirror.

Jack gets her turned around again, leaning up and giving her a peck on the lips, "Come on doll, I want to see what's for dinner."

It's rations, again, but she's done a decent job of preparing a meal with them. She's even cut up some of the fresh fruit he got through the black market and made a sweet sort of desert with shaved ice and cream, "It's a Prospitarian desert," She tells him when he looks at her.

"It's delicious," Jack spoons it into his mouth. It's cool and sweet, and it numbs his tongue just a little, "You're so fucking wonderful you know?"

She just smiles at him, twirling the spoon in her own desert, "Jack... could I ask you to do something for me?"

"What's do you want?" Right now, he's feeling inclined to say yes to anything, but he wants to hear it out first, and at least pretend like he's not totally smitten with her. He's got to have at least a little control in their relationship.

"Well... there's this fantasy I have..." PM blushes a little and Jack leans forward, very interested to hear where this is going, "Where Prospit won instead. And... you're my slave."

He grins, "I think we can do something about that."

"Really?" She smiles at him, and his heart just flutters in his chest, "Could we... if you're okay with it, how about we do it now?"

"As long as you keep the necklace on," He tells her, already thinking about how wonderful it's going to look on her when she's naked.

They head back to the bedroom. The restraints are still all over the place, and they get her collar on Jack and snapped to the wall, and the arm restraints onto him. He has a momentary panic when she buckles him in tight, but she just kisses his mouth to reassure him, before sliding Jack onto the bed.

He gets another pang when she belts his legs together, "Doll-"

"You're an unwilling slave," She tells him, and rubs him through his uniform a few times, "You'd kick me if I left them untied."

"Well... fine," He reluctantly agrees. Now's not the time to back out. Not when she lays out on the bed beside him, all white and gold, and those pearls at her neck, "But when I want out, you let me out."

"If you say so," She says, and straddles Jack. PM looms over him and it's almost embarrassing how turned on he is, but this is her fantasy, so she's got to be soaking wet. She looks down at him, "Jack?"

"Ye-" He starts to say, cut off when she slaps him. Another slap hits him across the face, just as hard as the first, and the third follows in quick succession, hard enough to break his lip, "Fuck! What the fuck?!"

"You piece of shit," PM's voice is cold, her eyes as flinty as the day they met. He stares at her, not comprehending what he's seeing. She was just smiling at him less than two seconds ago, "You're a monster. You are the worst person I have ever met."

"Fuck, time out, this isn't what we agreed to-" Another slap across the face and his face is hot and stinging, "FUCK! Stop it you dumb cunt!"

"I'm the dumb cunt?" She laughs, and it's a cold as her voice, "I'm not the one who just let myself be chained up by his own slave. I'm not the one so easily fooled by a few kind words and some sex."

"You-" Jack's mouth drops open. She. She fucking lied to him. She used him, "You cunt-"

Another slap and this time his ears are left ringing from the blow. She grabs one of the pillows out from under his head and pulls the pillow case off. Jack thrashes around, screaming and cussing, and trying to get anyone's attention, but she easily slides up his chest and forces the middle of the case into his mouth, tying the makeshift gag around the back of his head. He gets his teeth into the fabric and starts to tear at it, but he's not quick enough. She gets off of him and comes back with a roll of tape.

PM tapes his mouth shut efficiently, wrapping it around the back of his head a dozen times. She tapes up his legs as well, as if worried the belt might not be enough. By the end, all of him is ensnared and all he can do is thrash about, unable to get anywhere. She watches him for a bit and leans over him again, forcing Jack to look at her. PM grabs hold of the string of pearls, and his eyes go wide as she rips them off of her neck, pearls scattering everywhere.

"I hate you. I have suffered so much, but I have never hated anyone the way I hate you. You're not the only one who raped me, but you're the only one who ever tried to act like you were doing me a favour," Her voice drips with venom, and with no warning, she spits into his right eye. Jack screams with pain and thrashes around, but he can't get it out, and it burns like a fucker, "That's the least you deserve."

And with that, she gets up and leaves the room, and Jack screams at her to come back, words muffled by the gag.


	19. Chapter 19

He lies there for hours.

It passes slowly. She doesn't enter the bedroom again, and he's not entirely sure if she's out there at first, not until he hears the door open and someone else come in. He screams for help, but no one comes. Over the space of an hour, a dozen people come into the apartment. Jack can't hear what they're talking about, only that none of them stay long.

Halfway through the talks, two men enter the room. It's hard to see at first, since Jack's eye is still bleary from the mess PM made of it, but he recognizes them after a bit. It's the Authority Regulator and shock of fucking shocks, the Warweary Villein. That's when it hits Jack, when everything suddenly makes sense: this isn't petty revenge, PM's part of the resistance movement.

The fat sad looking fuck stands by the door while the skinny asshole walks over to the bed, just staring at him. Jack yells at him, trying to stop his heart with sheer hatred. But the Villein doesn't even flinch, "You are everything wrong with Derse. You are the reason that over half the women in the rebellion flinch when you stand too close to them. You are the reason most of them don't trust men anymore, and the reason most of them never, ever will."

Jack yells at him, or at least, tries to through the gag. But his words are muffled and lost. The Authority Regulator steps away from the door and approaches the bed, "You don't even know what you did to her. Every time I had to walk into that office and see her kneeling by your desk-" His voice cracks slightly, and the fat fuck looks like he's getting honestly upset, "You're a monster."

"If I were a violent man, I'd make you pay for what you did. The marks you've left on her will last for years, maybe for the rest of her life. The least I could do is return the favour," The Villein looks down at Jack with contempt in his eyes, " But it's not my place. The choice is hers. When the time comes, I know she'll chose right. She's stronger than all of this. She's stronger than you."

Villein turns his back to Jack and walks out of the room, the Authority Regulator follows, leaving Jack to his own devices again.

He tries to get free. His teeth work at the cloth in his mouth, hoping to reach the table, but no matter how he chews, all he gets is pillow case and no tape at all. And the pillow case just soaks up all the saliva in his mouth until he's too dry to do a thing. When that fails, he tries to roll to the side, hoping to find something to catch himself on. All he does is manage to fall off the bed and to end up trapped uncomfortably on the floor. There's nothing sharp to cut his bonds open with. Jack removed any of that long ago, when he first set up the room for PM.

After the first four hours, the explosions start. The first one is close enough to terrify him, make him worry that the building they're in is about to collapse. But it doesn't, and then another comes, and another. From his bedroom window, he can see the far off light of fire, and hear the faint whine of danger sirens. Something's happening out there, something that he doesn't quite understand, and something he's afraid of. He calls for help again, but there's nothing. By this time, he doesn't even hear PM talking anymore, or anyone else in the apartment. It's like they've all gone. Maybe they have.

The worst part is that he has nothing to do but think. It's all too fucking obvious now in hindsight. How could he have been so fucking stupid? She didn't come back because she loved him. She came back because she wasn't finished doing whatever her job was. Hadn't things been too good? Hadn't she fallen in love with him too quickly?

And as he lays awkwardly on the floor, he finally starts to put the pieces together.

She had been with him almost every single day. PM had knelt by his desk while he conducted his business, and she had heard every single word he said about everything. Nobody ever thought twice about talking in front of her: what was a slave going to do? It wasn't like they could talk to anyone.

But then Jack had gone and given her the paper. Fuck, no wonder her letters hadn't made any sense to him: they were a code. The Regulator had come and gone from the office a dozen times. Jack remembered one time for sure when he took a letter, but there could have been others. She was always carrying those fucking things everywhere she went for a while, tucked into her hand. But she had come home without them more often than not. Jack had assumed she was just delivering them, and it turns out that he was right, but in all the worst ways.

But that couldn't have been all of it. The stationary had been an impulse gift, the sort of thing you you can't anticipate. Which meant there had been another way of talking to one another. He racked his brain to find ways. He hadn't seen any of them talking, or even using code to talk to each other, except for in those letters. Hell, the only time he'd seen two Prospitarians together was when the Queen was going down on PM, and it wasn't like they could do their pointless morse-code when-

-when someone's face was shoved in another person's cunt, able to signal out whatever they wished while no one could see or hear. It's absurd, it's utterly fucking ridiculous, and it's goddamn genius. The White Queen must have set this up ahead of time. She must have known on some level. And hadn't PM always gotten a bit loud when she was with the White Queen? Those bitches, those fucking evil bitches, signalling to one another while Jack and the Queen were in the same fucking room.

Jack screams again, thrashing about on the ground. Those fucking cunts, how could they? After everything he'd done for PM, after he'd been so fucking kind and sweet, after he'd fed her and clothed her and always made sure she came when he did, she just turned around and revealed that she had been stabbing him in the back from the very fucking beginning.

He had given her everything, everything, that a girl could ever want. And the bitch had thrown it all away like it was nothing.

Jack rages and rages, but he never gets free, and no one comes back to find him.

After a while, he passes out from exhaustion.


	20. Chapter 20

He wakes up some time later when he's being lifted up. It's not PM, but two Dersites. Jack tries to talk to them, but they ignore him, unchaining him from the wall but leaving the rest of his bonds on. They carry him out into the hall and down the stairs. Jack twists his head this way and that, looking for someone to help him.

The streets are a mess outside. There are bodies lying there, and blood, and the remains of some battle. Everywhere he looks, he spots the occasional Dersite, and even more shockingly, Prospitarians wandering around without chains or restraints.

They head for the Towers, but as they come within sight, Jack realizes that they aren't whole anymore. The top of one tower is completely sheered away. The other still smokes from some sort of fire. The Queen's chambers are in that tower, and so's his office.

He isn't taken into the Towers. Instead, Jack's hauled down to the court, and he finds himself in the company of a dozen others. Jack recognizes some of them. They're mostly slave owners like him, high-ranking officials and generals. They dump Jack roughly on the ground and he does his best to right himself, getting up on his knees so he can see what's going on.

There are a dozen Prospitarians standing there, women that Jack recognizes from the line up he picked PM out of. Only they don't look broken anymore. They've all got those hard, cold eyes he saw in PM, and they're covered in a dozen long layers, as if they can't get enough clothes on.

"Any word of the Queen?" One asks another, glancing up towards the smoking tower.

"The Pertinacious Malcontent is looking for her right now," Says the other, and Jack's head jerks up a little at the name. PM?

"I heard it got ugly. The Steadfast Insurgent was with the Queen when the uprising happened. She was pretty badly hurt when they pulled her out of the wreckage," The first one says, then goes quiet when she notices Jack listening in. They step to the side, still speaking with each other, but taking care to keep too quiet for him to hear. He strains, but gets nothing.

"Make way!" Someone yells, and everyone turns to look. There's the Authority Regulator leading the way, and three citizens carrying a white body. PM comes running in from the other way and Jack's floored to see her. She's not wearing the dress anymore. Instead, she's got on the same stacked layers as the other women. Her legs are completely encased in something as well, an item Jack vaguely remembers as 'trousers'. The players wore those. Now apparently, so does she.

They lay out the white body in the Court. It's the White Queen, and she's badly hurt. PM kneels by her side, "Your majesty, did you kill her? Did you win?" But there's not a word from her, nothing but the sound of laboured breathing, "Did she say anything when you pulled her out?"

"No, but we found her by the Black Monarch's bodies," The Authority Regulator looks at her, and his face quivers, "She can't die. We need a leader."

PM takes one of the White Queen's hands, squeezing it tightly, "Wake up. Please. Even if only for a moment. We still need you."

But the White Queen doesn't. Her breath grows more laboured and finally stills, leaving the courtyard blanketed in silence. The only sound comes from some of the other higher-ups, the ones who are bound and tied the way Jack is.

PM carefully sets the White Queen down on the ground and gets to her feet. There's blood on her hands, but she doesn't seem to notice. She steps forward to look at the bound men ahd works her way down the line, pausing when she reaches Jack. PM kneels down in front of him and takes hold of one end of the tape, winding it off his head.

"We won," She tells him. She isn't joyful or triumphant, or gloating or anything. She simply is when she speaks, "The revolution was a success. And it's all because of you Jack Noir. Without you, we wouldn't have known the troop movements, or where guards were posted at each building, or exactly how close Derse was to starvation. Without you, I wouldn't have been able to pass information to my contacts, or to help them plan attacks. So I guess I should thank you for that."

The tape comes off an he gasps for air, bits of fabric falling out of his mouth. He coughs and spits, and looks at PM with rage, and with something else. When he speaks, his voice is low and warbling, "I. I did so much for you. I gave you things. I treated you so well. I loved you."

"You raped me," She says, and that hurts more than any of her slaps did, "You gave me things pillaged from my home, or things that were presents for you, not me. You expected me to thank you because you didn't beat me when you were done raping me, or because you made me come too. How could I love someone so selfish and cruel? How could I feel anything but hate for the man who did this to me-"

She hikes up her shirt. PM places one hand on her stomach, and Jack stops and stares, suddenly realizing what was right in front of his face. A baby bump. The smallest bump, but a bump none the less. His baby.

"It'll never know you," She tells him, that same quiet matter-of-fact tone of before, "No one will. Your name will be erased from every single database, purged from every record. I would like to torture you Jack. I'd like to hurt you even half as much as you hurt me. But you're too dangerous. And unlike you, I'm not a stupid cunt."

"But I love you," He says, because that's all there is to say on the matter, "If you'd asked, I would have helped-"

"Ask for help from you?" She looks at him with the most horrified expression he's ever seen, "You don't get it, do you? I hate you. I hate you. You're a monster."

"I've seen monsters! The guards that raped you in the Land of Cyclones and Bells were monsters! The Black Queen was a monster!" Jack rages and tries to lunge at her, but she gets out of the way, letting him fall onto his face, "You fucking ungrateful bitch! I gave you everything!"

"All you gave me were gifts for yourself. I don't love you Jack Noir. And I doubt anyone else ever has," She pushes her clothes back into place and stands, turning to face the guards, "Execute him. Execute all of them."

The Warweary Villein steps forward and takes PM's right hand. The Authority Regulator takes the left. Jack stares at them and he screams, screams as hard and as long as he can, right up until the axe takes his head from his neck and there's no more sound to be made at all.


End file.
